


Amor y Libertad

by MoonLantern



Series: The Guardian Diaries [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonLantern/pseuds/MoonLantern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gallardo is finally reunited with Marcena, she blesses him with a unique kind of strength that may be the key to ending the Wizarding War. But then he faces a difficult choice, between Love and Freedom, where choosing one can have equally disastrous consequences. What would you choose? Love? Freedom? Or would you fight to keep both?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Honour

**Author's Note:**

> Here's Book 3 of the Guardian Diaries Series. Even though it's the third in the series, you can read it on its own. This was the very first one that I wrote, so you'll be able to understand most of what's going on without reading the prequels, but you still can if you want to.  
> I first uploaded this on FanFiction and I'm slowly but gradually uploading some of my stuff on here too.   
> Feel free to comment. ;)

Prologue:

The young man let out a deep sigh; a sigh of defeat? A sigh of acceptance? Or a sigh of heavy heartedness and longing? He could not tell. A stranger watching him from a distance would see a truly beautiful, yet sorrowful, scene.

The man gazed into a room where a young lady lay on her back, her left arm curled over her blanket. The moonlight illuminated her pale and tender face, even as she slept she had that smile on her face. Even though there were still minor scars left on her, she seemed content and at ease.

He looked away; the feeling of longing made him feel empty and numb inside. He knew that when she woke up she would have a broken heart and it would kill her. How could he be such a fool? How did he think that this would end? He hated himself for it... he hated Lupin's words, which chimed so annoyingly but truthfully in his mind.

He wanted to to walk in, stroke her smooth hair and hold her one more time. But he couldn't. He couldn't cross the invisibl

Chapter 1- Honour

Approximately Five Months Ago

8th March 1999

 

When the peace and quiet of the tent sang silently into the clear and tranquil night, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Gallardo beamed with delight; something like this had not happened for seemingly many years.

"Good eh?" Ron asked.

"Brilliant." Harry laid back in his old and worn arm chair.

Gallardo rose from where he was sat and looked at the transparent night sky through the roof of the tent. "Hope, my friends, is something that never dies! Toast?" Everyone nodded.

"Well here's to Potterwatch," he raised a glass of milk. "I hope we always have the courage and strength to keep going." Someone was on their side, they were giving out the truth and inspiring so many to stay true. Something rare and beautiful had just been witnessed. Something amazing could be revived tonight.

"But did you hear what Fred said? He's abroad! He's still looking for the wand!" Harry leapt to his feet and was pacing like a young socialist, who'd found a simple solution to the world's problems.

"Harry-" Hermione began.

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Why are you so eager not to admit it? Voldemort's after the Elder Wand!"

"HARRY, NO!" Hermione yelled, but it was no use. The damage had been done.

Ron grabbed him by the shoulders. "I told you that name was taboo! We can't use it any more! Hermione quick, put the protective spells back on!"

"Too late," Gallardo muttered grimly. There was crack outside their tents. "Ron, lights out!" Quickly, but maybe not quickly enough, Ron stole all the lights with his Deluminator. Gallardo drew his wand and lent with his back towards the front of the tent. The Sneakscope squealed with fear as they all knew what was coming.

"Ron, help me please," he jerked his head towards the outside of the tent.

A gruff voice beckoned them from outside their small sanctuary. "Come out with your hands up where we can see them. We have a dozen wands pointing towards you, and we don't care who we curse."

"We need to fight them." Gallardo whispered.

"They can't know it's him," Hermione returned. With that she pointed her wand at Harry and shot a jinx at him which made him swell and keel in sharp pain, but this pain would be nothing compared to what was to come.

Gallardo turned to Ron, "On three, we fire a powerful and contagious jinx, yeah?"

Ron nodded eagerly and breathed a sigh of anxiety. "Let's show those Snatchers."

"One... two..."

BANG!

The front of the tent exploded in flames sending the two stumbling towards the middle, the smoke engulfed the room and blindfolded the companions from seeing. The chanting of the flames seized and it was the smoke that did it's victory dance. All they felt was someone grappling their arm. Gallardo tried to pull out and strike his attacker; however, his attempt was futile as a very tall and dark man elbowed him down. Pain shot up his side and cheek as he landed on something unbelievably hard. He was heaved up and dragged outside with the air greeting him coldly and freezing his insides. The dark and tall man towered over him like a bully who felt so pleased to make a child's life a misery. In one hand he held a wand that looked brown or black, in the other he held the green rowan wand he must have yanked out of Gallardo's pocket.

Some yards away, he could see Hermione being manhandled by another man who he recognised as Fenrir Greyback, notorious for his savagery and desire to maim and torture.

"Get off her!" Ron demanded fiercely. The Snatcher, closest to him dealt a swift punch into his abdomen making him wince and vomit some blood.

"No! Leave him alone!" Hermione cried. "Leave him alone!"

Greyback let out a disturbing and jeering laugh. "You're boyfriend will have a lot worse done to him if he's on my list! Delicious girl... another one...what a treat. I do like the softness of a woman's flesh!" He turned to the Snatcher that had punched Ron. "Scabior, search the tent!" He then turned to the man who was stood over Gallardo. " Melchalot, find out who he is!"

"Yes, sir!" Melchalot answered. He grabbed Gallardo by the collar and stood him up and looked menacingly in his eyes. Even though Gallardo's pain had mostly faded, it did not add to his comfort that Melchalot's foul breath and body odour had decided to help with the interrogation.

"Who are you, boy?" he snarled.

"Tom McGregor," Gallardo answered as calmly as he could.

"Don't you lie to me!" Melchalot struck him across the face, causing him to fall to the ground. The smell and feel of the wet grass cushioned his fall and was a lot more welcoming than Melchalot's hygiene. But he did not dare stay down for two long; he immediately pulled himself back up to face Melchalot, who was way bigger than him. Could he aim a kick into the groin and make escape?

"I know you! You're Gallardo Eagle!" Melchalot growled. "I know your father! Tell me what you've been doing here!"

Gallardo sighed deeply and looked at Melchalot's bloodshot brown eyes. "I was camping with my friends, just camping."

"You better not lie to me!" Melchalot thundered. "I swear, if I find out you've lied to me, I'll make you forget to cry and run to mama!" With that he grabbed his hostage and hauled him towards the others, who were already tied up with their backs to each other. When Melchalot left them to report to Greyback, Gallardo saw that Harry had been tied to a small goblin and an Afro-Caribbean he recognised as Dean Thomas. He nodded politely yet grimly smiled towards Ron and Hermione, who were tied to each other. Gallardo had been bonded with a fairly petite girl, who had medium to dark brown hair, which covered her face; she wore a blue short sleeve floral tunic and shuddered either because of the cold or fear.

"Hey, it's gonna be OK," he whispered. She turned and looked at him. Despite the bruises, cuts and grazes on her face, Gallardo recognised that same smile, that smile that she had given him seven years ago, or was it eight? That cute smile that was warm, tender, contagious, and had an element of shyness about it, with the dimples it created.

"Hello Marcena," he said weakly, his throat suddenly dry. "What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I don't know if you've heard of Potterwatch? But I'm a field reporter and I was tracking the disappearance of Dean Thomas."

"So let me get this straight," he asked slightly more serious. " Lee- I mean, River sent you to the front line on your own?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to go," Marcena replied quietly. "But they can't know that, they can't know what I do," she jerked her head towards the Snatchers who were looking finished with their discussions.

Gallardo reached for her hand beneath his bonds and held it. It felt cold, because of the weather, yet it gave him a short burst of warmth and energy. "I won't let that happen."

"You haven't changed one bit," Marcena reminded, blushing slightly.

Ron grunted and rolled his eyes. "Crisis, mate."

"Not a bad haul for one night," Greyback said. "Five truants, a Mudblood and a goblin!"

Gallardo looked towards Harry, who's warts and boils were clearly starting to fade. He turned towards Marcena. [Marcena, I'm using thought speak; do you trust me?]

She nodded, looking a little surprised.

[Good, they're going to ask questions and find out that Harry is with us, we need to stop that. I need you to focus, clear your mind completely, ignore everything else. I need you to conjure up your Patronus; all you have to do is to imagine it. Do that for me, please.]

Both of them racked their brains, doing their very best to focus and conjure the Patronuses. Time was short as Greyback was interrogating Harry as to who he was.

Gallardo took a deep breath, it did little to steady his sprinting heart, but he knew he had to focus and try and get his friends out of this. [I know it's hard; I've actually never done this before. But we need to try! We can do this!] he communicated to Marcena.

After a few minutes of trying, the horizon seemed to nurture their escape. Two silver figures started to form in the distance, they were slowly but gradually galloping towards where the companions were held. However, the silver aura seemed to vanish slowly.

Greyback was waving a copy of the Daily Prophet in Hermione's face. Gallardo grimaced and breathed heavily. [C'mon, don't worry about anything else; imagine your Patronus with mine, which is an ibex goat. We can do this!]

"I say that's Potter, plus his wand, that's two hundred thousand Galleons. Now if you all are too gutless to claim with me, then I guess the prize is mine!" Greyback said.

"Too late," Marcena whispered softly. They had been found out; Harry Potter sat bound, less swelled, with his glasses and looked defeated.

"What did you say?" Greyback demanded.

"Nothing," Marcena said quickly.

"Good, well the prize is mine I guess. If I'm lucky... I'll get both girls thrown in with me, to satisfy all my hungers!"

None of the companions felt comfortable by that remark. A knot wound itself so tight in Gallardo's stomach that he felt like he was about to throw up, especially since Greyback scraped his filthy fingernails just under Hermione's neck.

"You've already caught us, so why humiliate us like a cowardly bully?" Marcena yelled suddenly.

The whole area fell silent as Greyback turned to face her. There was a loud slap followed by a scream as he struck her cheek. "Speak only when spoken to, bitch!" he grabbed her cheek in his sweaty hand, before then clutching her hair. "You have a very tasty neck and tits, don't you?"

Marcena began to shake, just then Gallardo clenched his fists. "Fenrir Greyback, I challenge you to a duel!"

"No, Gallardo, leave it, it's okay!"

The Snatchers began a river of laughter and jeering. Melchalot moved in towards Gallardo, but Greyback held him back. "No, Melchalot, I actually want to hear this!" He knelt towards Gallardo, his mane covered in grease and blood, his hygiene was not much better than Melchalot's as his clothes stank of sweat and tobacco.

"So you'd challenge me, would yeh?" he asked menacingly.

"You just crossed a line that you do not cross!" Gallardo growled, before he could stop himself. "I challenge you!"

Greyback laughed, "Very well, Mr Eagle. Untie him Scabior!"

"Fenrir, what if he tries to escape?" Melchalot interjected.

Gallardo was about to affirm that he wouldn't when Greyback answered. "He won't," he looked from Gallardo, to Marcena. "He definitely won't."

"Aaaahhh!" Melchalot sneered. "Wouldn't want to disappoint your girlfriend now would you?"

"Can we just get on, please?" Gallardo asked impatiently, while a part of him ridiculed himself for being a fool. As Scabior untied him and handed back his green rowan and capra horn wand, the wood greeted him with a glow of delight.

_You idiot what're you doing? You'll get yourself killed! Remember the last time you duelled? You were almost butchered!_ a voice snarled, in his head.

_He was thrown against the erected stone monument. The eight stones barricaded him, but would offer him no protection from what was coming. He was bleeding, heavily, and struggling to stand, every attempt caused his body to convulse with burning pain. The towering wizard in black armour strutted towards him. Gallardo's pain pulled him down, unable to stand properly, unable fight him off. The dark wizard raised his wand to make the second kill of the day. The first one being Dumbledore, Gallardo would be the second. He had tried everything, he had used all his skills and now his time was up._

_"You scum!" roared Madam Hooch, as she charged with her wand out and broom mounted. The tyrant wizard just aimed and bolts of lightning consumed her, toppling her from the broom, screaming._

_His heart thudded as he closed his eyes and prepared to accept his fate, as he prepared to accept Lord Diablus's victory over him..._

Gallardo looked towards Marcena, who looked like she'd just seen a ghost, like she was about to cry. Then towards Harry and Hermione, who both smiled at him. That's what he needed.

That duel was against one of the most powerful wizards alive, he thought to himself. I've grown stronger since then and now is not the time to doubt myself!

"Eagle!" Greybacked roared. Gallardo straightened up and looked at his opponent face to face, he began inhaling the fighting spirit and exhaling all his anxiety out of his system.

"What's at stake?" Greyback asked roughly.

"If I win you give us our freedom." Gallardo said grimly, pacing from side to side.

"Fair enough," Greyback nodded, as a mischievous sneer shot across his face. "But if I win then I get to do whatever I want with your sweetheart!" The Snatchers chanted insults in support.

"No," Gallardo said simply. He swallowed. The chanting stopped following some jeering.

"No?" Greyback looked astounded. "Is Mr Eagle withdrawing, already?"

"No." Gallardo commanded more firmly, as he continued pacing. "If you win, you do what you have to me! You're problem is with me! You don't even lay a finger on her!" He glanced briefly towards Marcena, who looked towards the ground, and Gallardo was grateful for that. He turned and looked Greyback in his eye again. "You hear me?" The Snatchers fell silent, as though their cruelty took a blow.

"Who do you bloody think you are?" Scabior roared. "May I remind you that we are-"

"May I remind you that I am about to duel Mr Greyback," Gallardo retorted.

Greyback signalled for his men to be quiet. "Quite the man, Mr Eagle. You'd fight for her honour, wouldn't you?"

"I would."

"OK, then," Greyback strode back towards his men. "Since I'm in a good mood, I'll accept your conditions. Seconds?"

Gallardo hadn't thought of that, he glanced briefly towards Harry and then towards Melchalot. "No seconds," he replied. "You need to tell your men to not intervene."

"All right then," Greyback sighed. "Snatchers, don't intervene!"

"He hasn't told his friends-" Scabior began.

"My friends are tied up, thank you very much."

"Eagle, I'm warning you," Greyback began viciously. "If I win, your woman will watch me tear you up with my bare hands, understood?"

Gallardo's spine began to freeze, as goosebumps infected every ounce of his body. Now was not the time to show any weakness. He was strong, he was able and brave, he had shown a lot of courage to get this far. "I will not hesitate to strike you down!" he said menacingly. He looked around the landscape, towards his left was a bending tree, which was evergreen; it united its leaves and the cracked ground beneath it, even though the cracks appeared to be numerous. Gallardo would have to look within him to compose himself like the tree. He smiled as he and Greyback took up positions. He frowned into Greyback's face and did a short bow; his opponent returned the favour.

"One..." Scabior began. "Two..."

"Stupefy!" Greyback yelled.

"Enduro!" Gallardo countered in his head, for he was expecting Greyback to cheat. The wand cores locked with each other, Gallardo's green clashed with Greyback's red, a kaleidoscope was emitting in the centre of the two adversaries as both tried to hold their ground. Both worked up sweat, as it taunted them on their situation.

Gallardo exhaled his energy as he gave a yell from his chest; a twist from the shoulder is what it took to deflect Greyback's jinx and send him stumbling.

Gallardo pressed his right arm briefly to revive it for more. He felt he could truly win this.

"Crucio!" Greyback had recovered from his push; despite Gallardo's attempted dodge, the spell caught his left shoulder. It was like a hot knife had bitten into his skin. The impact sent him stumbling behind the tree. He grimaced and poured a bit of Water Charm on his shoulder to ease the scorching.

"Eagle, my boy, have you given up so early?" Greyback taunted.

Gallardo hissed, "Tormenta a Greyback!" A slash of the wand initiated a large black cloud above. A bolt of lightning charged at Fenrir Greyback, followed by the roar of its cavalry of lions.

Greyback yelled "Protego!" to block the attack. Gallardo sprang up from behind the tree. "You talk too much, Greyback!" he shouted. "Impedimenta!" The jet shot towards his adversary, who was thrown down to the ground, expelling the puff of air from his stomach. However, he rolled to his feet and snarled, it was as if he was about to transform into a werewolf at his choosing.

Before Gallardo could aim another spell, Greyback turned on the spot and vanished with a crack.

"What the-?" Gallardo began abruptly. "Did he just flee?" he said looking curiously at the Snatchers, who were like an over agitated group of football fans.

Two rough hands seized Gallardo from behind and threw him down on his front. He held out his arms to cushion the fall, before rolling to his right. A huge thud landed where he would have been. Greyback grabbed his throat and pulled him. Gallardo felt his wand slip to the ground as he struggled, apparently helpless, against Greyback's tough and vice like grip across his throat.

"You blood traitor! You filthy half-blood!" Greyback roared. "Since you love, Muggles and Mudbloods so much, let's see if you can fight like one! It's hopeless Eagle! I will tear you up! I will tear up each and every one of your friends!"

Gallardo's lungs started to burn as all the oxygen slowly sapped out from him. He needed to act and fast; Marcena's, Harry's and all of his friends' protection rested on it. In a moment of desperation he hammered both his fists to Greyback's temple and let out an almighty Ki-hap. The werewolf howled in pain and surprise, and released Gallardo, who landed in a frog position. He immediately rose and delivered a jump front kick, gliding his right leg into Greyback's chin. His anger within him charged right through and Greyback's tough flesh could not hold.

He summoned up his own wand and bellowed: "Impedimenta!" sending Greyback falling. He fired a Knockback Jinx deep into Greyback's stomach, making him cough blood and gasp in pain, followed by a fit of coughing.

"Levicorpus," he thought, with that Greyback's would be carcass soared upside down into the air. The Death Eater let out a scream as Gallardo summoned his adversary's wand in his left hand.

"It's all over, Fenrir Greyback!" he said fuming with rage, the duel was his for the taking. With his wand he quickly put a shield between the Snatchers and his friends, with Greyback's wand he aimed for the final shot. The green light began to form and hallow for its next victim.

"Avada-!" Gallardo began.

"Gallardo, no!" Marcena implored.

Gallardo breathed heavily and blinked fiercely; he lowered Greyback's wand, he let it slip to the ground with a small tapping sound. The heavens began to open as drops of water rained down on him, against his heated skin.

"The Gallardo I know, would never kill someone in cold blood," Marcena continued. "He would never take a life like that! Please, don't let him turn you into something else!"

As Gallardo let his breath leave his body, so did most of his rage, but not his anger. He let Greyback down with a flick of his wand. He strode over to Greyback, who was almost whimpering on the ground, and pointed his wand at him.

"Fenrir Greyback, I'll spare your life if you honour our promise and give us our freedom," he said calmly but firmly.

"Y-yes," Greyback stammered, his eyes bloodshot. "Please ...don't kill me," he added quietly, to everyone's surprise.

"Swear it on the blood of your Master!" Gallardo commanded, with more force, refusing to be taken for a fool, knowing that Greyback would be lost either way.

The air was silent except for the pattering of the rain. The Snatchers were completely silent, not knowing what to expect next and the companions felt astonished; how could they have got this far?

Greyback opened his mouth before swallowing. "I... swear..."

Gallardo smiled and lowered his wand, before sinking to his knees, grinning like a twelve year old. He turned to Marcena, and nodded, she smiled back. He looked to Harry and did a courteous semi-bow.

"Thank you," he whispered, because it was Harry's training that had prepared him for the duel.

"You're welcome, now please untie us," Harry said.

"Of course," Gallardo replied before trying to embrace the cool water as it streamed onto him, like a true blessing.

Suddenly, he felt a heavy boot dig into his side; the impact sent him sprawling into the mud. A punch also shot into his belly, which made him keel over with blood being coughed up. Greyback then grabbed Gallardo's wand and aimed the green rowan and the werewolf's brown oak.

"Greyback, we had a deal!" Gallardo yelled in pain. "We had a deal; you swore-"

"Yes, you will get your freedom," Greyback answered. "When my Master is done with you, you'll definitely have your freedom! Haha!" The Snatchers let out a sigh of relief at this and jeered through the Shield Charm.

Greyback aimed another kick into Gallardo's ribs, which made him fall back with a cry and a groan. But he quickly sat up and wiped sweat and blood from himself.

"Greyback, you're a dishonest dick," Gallardo panted.

"Electrolux!" Greyback snarled. Blue lightning bolts emitted from his wand burning Gallardo's shirt and razing his skin.

"We had a deal and you know you've broken it!" he panted once he'd recovered. He aimed a punch into Greyback's groin.

"Crucio!" Greyback aimed with both wands. Gallardo felt as if two white hot knives stabbed into him at thirty miles per hour over and over again. He screamed in agony and frustration at his situation. The mind numbing pain clung on to him jealously. "Greyback, you're such a-"

"Please shut up!" Marcena yelled, visibly crying. "Please, stop hurting him!" Greyback hesitated before charging another kick into his victim's arm. The air froze.

"Now... we stop," Greyback began disappointed, after a long and tense moment. He grabbed Gallardo's wounded body and dragged him back to the others, where he was bound.

The Shield Charm had worn off, as the Snatchers made their way to the companions; each of them felt roughly grabbed by the hair.

"To Malfoy Manor!" Greyback said.


	2. Shawshank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right, here we are! It's called Shawshank (after the film and prison), it basically means to try and go on when there seems to be little hope, and at Malfoy Manor, that's exactly what they have to do.

The short suffocation of air and a cracking noise transported them in front of a mansion that towered above them. The companions had to side step to keep up with the Snatchers and endure their rough pushing. Every step Gallardo took seemed to stab his body in the rhythm of a grandfather clock.

Scabior walked over to an iron gate and shook it. "How do we get in, Greyback? What the-" It started to twist and morph into a very frightening face.

"State your purpose!" it ordered.

"Potter," Greyback replied. "We have caught Potter!"

Gallardo's heart was beating so harshly that all the pain was getting unbearable, his wounded legs felt like giving way at any time. While an annoying voice in his head kept repeating: You fool! You should have kept your mouth shut!

Marcena tightened her hand around his, which just made his legs feel more numb. [Hey Gallardo, guess what? I can do thought speak as well.]

[No kidding!] he replied as encouragingly as possible. He could see Narcissa Malfoy descending from the outer stairs of her house, she marched on to the garden to talk to Greyback.

[Listen, maybe I can give you some temporary pain relief,] Marcena continued. [Just to make things easier. Would you like that?]

[Yes, please,] Gallardo smiled back. [You know you're such a...a]

Marcena blushed slightly; Gallardo let out a warm chuckle. Unfortunately, everyone around started staring at him as if he was mad.

"Eagle, are you finding this situation funny?" Melchalot roared.

"No, sir, definitely not."

"Listen to me," Narcissa began. "If you are laughing at my dress...!" The rest of the sentence seemed to sweep over his head. He'd just noticed the brown and yellow- was it a dress? It had purple lacing from the back, which coiled around to the front.

"No, ma'am, your dress is of the finest quality," Gallardo said quickly. Narcissa seemed pleased, at which Gallardo thought to himself: Oh please, don't do this!

"Well, unfortunately, you seem like Potter's friends," Narcissa continued. "No amount of charm can change the fact that the Dark Lord will decide your fate. Come, my son, Draco is home; he will identify you then we can hand you over."

"Is Lord Diablus here?" Melchalot asked.

"No, he isn't, he's out... somewhere..." Narcissa seemed to be annoyed. "He'll want to deal with Eagle.

As they trudged on Gallardo turned to Marcena, [Hey, sorry about that, but can I have the relief please?]

[OK, it'll make you feel lulled and faint while it works,] Marcena replied.

[What? I can't risk that! I need to be on the look out!]

[Please, trust me! I can't see you in...in... besides we'll keep a look out,] she assured him.

[Fine, but as soon as I've recovered I want to snap back into reality, OK?] Gallardo replied.

Marcena squeezed his hand tighter and nodded.

They had entered a large living room that smelt of mahogany and polish, a figure rose from one of the many armchairs in the room- Draco Malfoy.

[OK, Gallardo, now imagine all your troubles floating away, in a balloon... you're on a Hippogriff just soaring... soaring in the horizon...]

Gallardo's desire to see what was happening was trumped by the dying persistence of his gashes that taunted him, he let himself be tranquillized. He knew that there could be many things that people did or said that he could miss, yet for once he decided to trust and hand over control to his friends- just this once.

[Your trouble's don't own you, you own them...]

Suddenly, Gallardo was no longer in Malfoy Manor; he was on the top of a grand castle, with the cracks of dawn rushing to greet him, to congratulate him. The castle was clearly worn by bitterness and battle; however, Gallardo smiled like it would be his birthday almost everyday. In his hand he held a scimitar- a slightly curved sword which shone with the jadestones and sapphires. He was about to look down at the crowd that seemed to be either cheering or babbling in fear below him, but one image kept of cropping up. The Nuri Lamp in his pouch, its silver lining and ancient texture beseeched to him. The small wooden box, which just had the inscrition: 'I open only for the worthy' finally clicked open. A silver wand glowed just outside the Lamp. He had a spare wand! If only he could reach it.

"STOP!" Bellatrix Lestrange yelled suddenly. Gallardo snapped back into reality, his muscles and limbs felt like they had regenerated like a tree in the spring time. The pain had left him, even though the bruises and scars remained. This could be the perfect gambit!

"We shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!" Bellatrix screamed, looking like a frightened animal. "What's that?" she pointed at Gryffindor's sword, which was carried by a Snatcher.

"Sword," he grunted.

"Give it to me."

"No, it's not yours, missus, I found it in the tent- AAARRGGH!" he was sent falling as she stunned him.

"What the hell you playing at?" Melchalot snarled. He tried to attack but was thrown back, all the Snatchers except Greyback were stunned down; Greyback fell to his knees completely bound. While the Death Eaters squabbled with each other, Gallardo turned to Harry.

"If we could find a chance to slip out," he whispered.

"We can't," Harry replied. He lowered his voice even more and said sternly: "Now is not the time for bravado."

Gallardo wanted to argue back and ask him what sort of a guy Harry took him for. But there was no time, Bellatrix kept screaming as to how much peril they could all be under.

"If they've been in there... the Dark Lord will... I must know. Greyback take all the prisoners down to the dungeons!"

"Bella, this is my house and you do not get off giving orders!" Narcissa said.

"Just do it!" Bellatrix screamed impatiently. "You have no idea what this could mean!"

"Very well," Narcissa said. "Greyback, take the prisoners down."

"Wait a minute, leave the Mudblood with me," Bellatrix pointed at Hermione.

"No! Take me!" Ron put himself forward. His offer was rejected with a slap to his face.

"If she dies under questioning then I'll take you," Bellatrix said coldly. "Blood traitors are after Mudbloods in my books. Take them downstairs, Greyback!"

Greyback edged tensely towards them, before grabbing their ropes and dragging them down a corridor that led down. The house didn't feel too warm, but the stairs that followed gave the companions a heavy chill.

"I should've told her about the promise you failed to honour, shouldn't I?" Gallardo threatened.

Greyback responded by thumping his knuckles into his chest. "Shut your mouth! Do you enjoy being beaten up?" Nobody needed telling about the rhetoric of that question as the dark and gloomy staircase taunted them all to trip and break their necks. After what seemed like many years, they reached a wooded door which was opened by Greyback with a flick of his wand. The companions were shoved inside, the door slammed shut behind them, leaving them in complete darkness, seemingly alone in the prison cell, to rot like corpses.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted.

"Ron, shut up, please!" Harry beseeched.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"Ron, c'mon, mate!" Gallardo said. "You need to calm-!"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Ron retorted. "Hermione-"

"Would want us to be calm and figure something out!" Harry said as convincingly as possible.

"Harry? Ron? Gallardo?" a girl's voice called out. "It's me, Luna."

Sure enough, Luna Lovegood emerged into their dim lit view, looking bruised but still retaining her eccentric bubbliness.

"Hey Luna," Gallardo smiled. "Excuse us for our poor manners, but could you be a star and help us out of our ropes?"

"Sure thing," Luna replied. "Let me just get the old nail." She disappeared into the cell. "Mr Ollivander, can I have the nail please?" Luna trotted back into view and brandished a small nail like it was a spare quill for an assignment. She began snipping away at the ropes.

They could hear Bellatrix playing the inquisitor and asking Hermione if she'd been in her vault, then torturing her with the Cruiciatus Curse when the wrong answer was given. Hermione's screams pierced all their ears. Gallardo's felt his own and Marcena's heart race violently, he heard a quiet gasp, which he tried to comfort with a squeeze of her hand.

Ron struggled and screamed at the top of his voice: "HERMIONE!"

"Ron hold still, I need to get the ropes off!" Luna said. "I can't see!"

"My Deluminator's in my pocket, just click it," Ron replied after he'd managed to calm down slightly. Luna found the device and with one click three orbs zoomed to different ends of the cell and shone down of the companions like moons providing some light on a very dark night.

Gallardo looked into the corner to see Mr Ollivander lying down gasping in shock or despair. Dean and the goblin were coughing some dust out of their system. There was no time for small talk as Bellatrix was heard screaming at Hermione.

"You lying filthy Mudblood! If you haven't been inside my vault then how have you got hold of this sword? Crucio!"

Hermione's deafening screams could not be drowned by Ron's sobbing in despair.

Finally, the ropes were cut. All those who were bound rushed to feel the edges of the cell. Ron tried to Disapparate, but it was futile. Harry tried to look for a weak wall but there was no luck.

Gallardo yanked out the Nuri Lamp from his pouch, it's silver coating calling to him. He gave it a rub and a silver wand protruded from the Lamp and hovered above it.

"Accio wand," he said and the wand glided neatly into his right hand. He felt a gush of air and energy. It was a feeling he could not describe, but he smelt the scent of Hogwarts, of a stallion and of the wind whooshing past him.

"Mate, you all right?" Dean asked.

"Oh yes!" Gallardo replied. "Never better!"

There was no time to celebrate. Harry was rummaging through his bag. A piece of glass dropped to the floor and a blue light emitted the sapphire glow into the room.

"Help us please!" Harry yelled. "We're in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, help us!" The blue glow vanished. Gallardo strode to Harry and put a hand on his shoulder.

"The sword is fake! I swear!" Hermione was crying.

"A likely story!" Bellatrix shouted.

"But wait," Lucius' drawling voice said. "We can verify this. Draco, fetch the goblin he can tell us if the sword is fake."

Harry said to Gallardo: "Not yet," he turned to Ron and gave the order for lights out. He whispered to the goblin, who was called Griphook.

The orbs returned to their rightful home in the Deluminator. The cell door creaked open, with Malfoy grabbing Griphook and taking him before ordering the others to "not try anything clever" or he will kill them.

The Deluminator clicked back the orbs; Dobby the free Elf stood in the middle of the cell, looking frightened yet controlled.

"Dobby?" Harry chuckled slightly. "What the-?"

"Dobby has come to help Harry Potter," replied the Elf in a frightened but coherent voice.

"Dobby, can you Disapparate from this place and take humans with you?"

Dobby nodded.

"Good," Harry replied. "I want you to take Luna, Mr Ollivander, Dean and Marcena to..."

"Bill and Fleur's," Ron said. "Shell Cottage, on the outskirts of Tinsworth!"

"Yes," Harry agreed.

Dobby rushed over to Mr Ollivander who was in a sitting position and in despairing agony, he held on to the old man and turned to Luna, Dean and Marcena. They started to protest but Harry interjected. "Guys, you need to go!"

"He's right," Gallardo backed him, he turned to Marcena. "Please," he pleaded. "We'll follow, I promise."

The others reluctantly held Dobby's hand.

"Dobby, can you come back for us next?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Harry Potter," Dobby replied holding the others before vanishing with a crack!

"What's that?" they heard Lucius Malfoy call from above. "Wormtail, go check."

Gallardo took a step back and turned to his friends. "Ron, light's out please, I'm gonna flash his eyes; grab his wand. C'mon musketeers!"

"All for one," Harry grinned in pain. "I'm all right. All for one..."

"And one for all!" they all chimed. It was true, the peace and quiet of their cell agreed. They all belonged together. They had a fourth that needed saving. They had fought alongside each other. They had ate with each other, and now they would either escape or die together.

"Stand back!" Wormtail ordered. The cell door opened slowly and gradually.

"Lumos!" Gallardo yelled and thrust his wand into Wormtail's face, who gasped in shock as the yellow light berated his eyes. Ron grabbed his wand "We'll be having that!"

Wormtail grabbed at Harry's throat with his metal hand and flung him in front, so that Ron and Gallardo could not stun Wormtail without hurting Harry. The iron hand began to tighten.

"Wormtail... are you going to kill me..." Harry managed to choke as he started turning blue. "After everything... After I saved... your life..."

None of them could believe what was about to happen- Wormtail's iron hand began to slack; he gasped in horror and disbelief as it shot at his own throat and began to mercilessly close. All of the friends tried to pry open the hand; however, it was futile. It all happened so fast; suddenly, Wormtail's flesh began to inflame. Before they knew it, a glow of fire engulfed him and vanished. It's residue was nothing but a metal glove and some torn up robes.

"What the-" Ron began, but another scream jumped him back to his senses.

"Harry, are you OK?" Gallardo began, but a pained Harry touched his scar and just waved him on. "OK, come on, we don't have much time!"

They made their way up the stone staircase and towards the door by the living room. They peered inside to see Bellatrix stood over Hermione's stationary body, with the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Griphook was sat down and Bellatrix was questioning him.

"Is this the real sword?"

"No, it is not," he replied.

"Are you sure? Quite sure?"

"Yes, this one is definitely fake."

Bellatrix sighed with relief; she swished her wand making Griphook keel over in pain. "Now we call the Dark Lord," with that she pulled up her sleeve and pressed the Dark Mark, which beamed like an excited fox. "Greyback, I'm sure the Dark Lord will value your effort tonight and will not begrudge you the girls."

"NOOOOOOOO!" Ron bellowed in rage. "Expelliarmus!" Bellatrix's wand flew into the air and landed in Harry's hand. They had to take advantage of their enemies' shock.

"Impedimenta!" Harry yelled at Draco sending him falling.

"Decimatium!" Gallardo roared pointing his wand at Greyback, Macnair and Rookwood, who had arrived probably to see Harry captured. The impact took out Macnair's legs and a ripple of magic spread, numbing the other two to their knees. Harry fired the same spell at Narcissa and Lucius.

"Nobody move!" Bellatrix ordered. "Or else, she dies!" She stood clutching Hermione in a standing position, holding a silver knife to her victim's neck. "Go on, I dare you! Then we'll see how filthy her blood really is!"

Nobody dared to make a move.

"Good. Now drop your wands! Draco collect their wands! Lock these heroes up!"

Draco snatched the wands that Harry and Ron were holding. A blonde female Death Eater pointed hers at Gallardo and pulled the wand that he had dropped. He recognised her as someone who was an ex-student from Hogwarts: Veera South.

"No time for a hero," Veera tutted mockingly.

"Very good..." Bellatrix said. "Did you honestly think that you could stand a chance?"

"Bellatrix, do you even bother to wake up and think?" Gallardo said suddenly.

The whole room stared at him, his friends shot him an angry glare. The Death Eaters said nothing.

Gallardo took advantage of this silence. "Do you ever stay awake and wonder, why we're so stuck in our ways? Why we won't prostrate to the Dark Lord like you?" After a short pause he continued. "Because we don't have to be forced to fight for our cause by someone who threatens to hurt us and our families. Our friends and associates don't maim or threaten us; we aren't scared to crap by each other." Veera, Narcissa, Lucius and Draco were starting to tremble. Gallardo's heart was racing for him to just escape, but he knew what he was doing. Even Bellatrix seemed to be fuming rather than trying to kill them, which kept her busy, almost intrigued by what Gallardo had to say.

"We have something worth fighting for! If you torture or hurt us, we'll come back stronger and more determined! If you lock us up, we get some freedom from you! You might kill us, but you'll never take our soul!

"You know, a famous statesman who was imprisoned on Robben Island recited a poem that makes a big difference to one's state of mind.

"Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever God may be,

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance,

I have not winced nor cried out loud,

Under the bludgeoning of chance,

My head is bloody but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears,

Looms but the horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years,

Finds and shall find me... unafraid.

It matters not how straight the gate,

Or how charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul."

The whole room remained silent like an abandoned ruin; the Malfoy's and Veera swallowed. Bellatrix just huffed fiercely, her grip on Hermione's hair tightened.

"William Ernest Henley," said a deep Dracula-like voice. All turned and froze at who they saw. Towering them and marching imperially yet cruelly was a "man", if he could be called that. His reddened thick skin was only overshadowed by the dark and ornamental helmet with two protruding horns that he wore. "So we meet again!" Lord Diablus sneered. "I told you we would."

"Where's the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix asked.

"Master Voldemort will be here shortly, I'm sure," replied Diablus, he was the only one who dared to use Voldemort's name; he was the closest thing to an ally as Voldemort could ever have. He strode closer towards Hermione. Only a sofa stood between him and Veera, yet she shivered and backed away slightly.

He was about to take a look into her face, when the chandelier above came crashing down like led balloon. The glass shattered and ricocheted the room. Bellatrix released Hermione and leapt out of the way. Harry snatched the three wands that Draco held; Gallardo wrist locked Veera and grabbed his own and Veera's wands. Diablus shielded himself from the glass with his cloak, but it was Hermione who couldn't defend her unconscious self; the shattering miraculously left no more than a few shards in her side.

"Dobby!" Bellatrix screamed. Sure enough in the doorway stood the elf, with his hands on his hips.

Narcissa raised his wand to stun him, but he was too quick because he quickly disarmed her.

"How dare you disarm a witch?" Bellatrix fumed. "How dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master!" he replied sending her stumbling with a jolt from his hand. "Dobby is a free Elf! Dobby has come to rescue Harry Potter and his friends!"

Ron rushed through the shards of glass to heave Hermione on his back; Harry winced as his scar burnt and grabbed Griphook and Gryffindor's sword.

Dobby aimed a spell at Diablus, who merely deflected it into a lavish painting on the wall. He reached into his cloak and took out a small ball the size of an apple. He flung it across the room where Dobby, Harry and Ron stood, Gallardo leapt in between and yelled: "Protego!" the Shield Charm collided with the ball as red powder erupted from it. Gallardo sneezed and then coughed as Dobby grabbed him from behind. Bill and Fleur's Shell Cottage! Another hand grabbed him from his side, maybe it was Hermione waking up. He repeated the name like a mantra and spun on his foot as he saw Bellatrix Lestrange throwing her silver knife after them, it glided through the air and crack! They were apparating! They had escaped from the clutches of their enemy!


	3. Green

9th March 1999

The fresh marine air greeted them as they all landed with a thud on some wet grass. The cold wind blew onto them almost berating them for something. Gallardo checked and saw Harry; Hermione being held by Ron and another figure with them.

Veera, the blonde Death Eater, sat on the grass panting and shivering in the cold. Gallardo drew his wand at her immediately prompting her to raise her hands. She reached inside her own pocket but Gallardo shook his head.

"What's she doing here?" a voice cried from the direction of a large white house which towered above them grandly yet with some humility and shyness, as if it was just a simple house.

Marcena, followed by Bill, Fleur, Dean and Luna, came marching at them. "You! What do you think you're doing?" she screamed at Veera.

Veera jumped up and ran at Marcena, grabbing her hair. Marcena yelled in pain as she was locked by her head. She elbowed her attacker in the side, who let out a squeal.

"ENOUGH!" roared Bill. Gallardo took this opportunity to dash in and push them apart with each hand on their shoulders. He pushed slightly harder on Veera, who stumbled towards Bill to be restrained, whereas Gallardo held Marcena's arms and pulled her away from the hullabaloo.

"It's OK," he said. "It's fine, we'll deal with her. Please, calm down. We're here now."

"DOBBY!" Harry shouted suddenly. All turned in horror to see the Elf swaying from side to side; his eyes were wide open and grim smile cracked from his face. If it wasn't for the sharp silver blade protruding from his chest, it could easily be thought that Dobby was sedated. He gracefully fell to his side, but was held up by Harry.

"No! Don't die Dobby!" he yelled frantically.

"Such a wonderful place... to be with...friends" said the Elf with his last few breathes. "You...are safe now... Harry Potter..." with that he lay still.

The black night oversaw a man in a garden digging a grave fiercely and without complaint. In the house's living room lay Hermione, recovering from her ordeal. Ron stood a few paces from her as he nursed his hand. Dean, Marcena and Luna all sat on the floor, propped against the sofa or on top of sleeping bags. Veera lay sedated in the corner. In the next room; the kitchen, Gallardo Eagle sighed as Fleur Delacour rubbed ointment on the scars and first degree burns on his shoulder, arm and chest. She passed him some medicine that seemed like carrot juice, which he graciously drank and grimaced.

"So," she began. "Are you going to tell me what is going on?"

Gallardo smiled. "We were on a mission and trapped in Malfoy Manor; we're safe now and grateful to you," he put simply.

Fleur chuckled slightly. "Well, your wounds should heal soon." Gallardo put his worn and torn shirt back on.

"One more thing..." he asked as he was about to walk out. "Diablus threw a... ball like thing at me and it crumbled to dust. Do you know what it was?"

"I don't," she replied. "But I've checked, there appears to be no serious damage. Still, I will check you again shortly. In the mean time get some rest and don't overwork it!"

Gallardo nodded as he exited the kitchen and joined his friends back in the living room.

"Mate, you all right?" Ron asked.

"I'll be fine," Gallardo replied. "How's Hermione?"

"She's getting better," Luna stroked her hair.

"How are we all?" Gallardo said.

"We've been better," Dean laughed. "But we'll live. Listen, Harry's digging Dobby's grave, I'm going to help."

"Me too," Ron got up.

"I would but can't," Gallardo motioned to his bandages.

"That's fine, you should get some rest, the grave might hurt you," Ron warned lightly.

"Why is Harry doing it by hand?" Dean asked. Sure enough Harry was in the garden; he was striking the earth with the spade and the sweat and bruises on in his hands failed to deter him.

"To give back," Gallardo replied enviously. He sighed heavily before laying on one of the cool mattresses on the floor. He closed his eyes and felt like he was back at the camp site, when the rain poured down on him, when he'd defeated Greyback, when after about two years he saw her again; saw her smile, her warmth and her sweetness. She was safe. She was probably watching him right now grinning like a goof as he drifted into his nap.

The cracks of dawn started descending from the heavens, as Dobby was lowered into his grave which was laboriously dug by Harry, Dean and Ron. Hemione, dressed in one of Fleur's gowns, limped towards the grave where Ron put his arm around her. Luna strode forwards with a bouquet of flowers. Gallardo had showered and was dressed in trousers and a green shirt and his grey jacket. Marcena, Fleur and Bill followed and arrived to lament the Elf. A chill from the West came down; Gallardo took off his jacket before placing it gently on Marcena's shoulders, who mouthed a "thank you" before crossing her arms to hold each end of the jacket.

Ron reached in the grave to close Dobby's eyes; he seemed at peace and happy; he was free from the fear of Voldemort, Diablus and the Death Eaters. The echo of the wind lamented like a phoenix and like bag pipes singing softly yet passionately.

Here lay Dobby, the free Elf who had sacrificed so much for them through the years. Gallardo's heartstrings clashed with his composed exterior, he turned to see Marcena shedding a tear, at which he quickly held her hand; she squeezed back and lent on him for support.

"We should say something," Luna said suddenly. "I'll go first. Dobby, thank you for rescuing us from that foul place. It seems so unfair that you had to die."

"Thanks Dobby," Ron said.

"We'll never forget," Hermione cried.

"Goodbye, Dobby," Dean muttered.

"Thank you so much... for everything. I'll miss you... we all will..." Marcena wept like an angel watching over a dying soul.

Gallardo knelt down. "Dobby, you were brilliant... I hope we can use your strength and courage in the days to come. Goodbye, Dobby." He breathed heavily at the last words. He quickly patted Ron on the back and nodded.

Bill swished his wand, with that the earth blanketed Dobby's body, a mound of soil and a headstone was what was left.

"Do you mind if I stay here alone, for a moment?" Harry asked.

Everyone nodded and headed back into the house. If there is one thing Gallardo could do with right now was a cup of tea, he loved how it infused with the water passionately and with elegance. When that energy was transferred to him he quickly set into the living room where his pouch was. From it he rummaged through some clothes, the poem that Dumbledore wrote for him (he still couldn't suss its hidden meaning of what he had to do or how) and there was the Nuri Lamp, which Dumbledore had left him from his will. He found the note that read: _"To Gallardo Clive Horatio Eagle, I leave you the Nuri Lamp. May it give you light in times of darkness. May it give you courage, strength and wisdom."_

Gallardo silently thanked Dumbledore for his words of hope. The holograms of the silver fob watch and the jadestone ring rallied out to his mind. The little wooden box that said "I only open for the worthy" had finally rewarded Gallardo's patience, by releasing the watch and ring from its custody.

_Accio ring! Accio watch!_ The two items were summoned into Gallardo's hands. They started to glow like a star, they emitted their light to the tune of his heart. He closed his eyes and he could hear his heart pumping, gradually getting faster and faster; the glow from the ring and watch also grew faster.

A sudden heated vibration in his pocket jumped him back into the present. His new wand was also chanting, wanting to be held. As he did, it roared in triumph as it joined in the the glowing to the rhythm of his heart. Suddenly, he was on a battlement or war torn part of a very familiar castle where a man knelt in front of him, holding out a scimitar in his hands.

"It is time," the man said deferentially.

"Gallardo?" Harry called to him.

Gallardo looked up. Harry, Ron and Hermione were stood at the door looking somewhat concerned.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Gallardo replied, even though he felt like he was going mad.

"We're going to talk to Griphook," Harry informed. "And then to Ollivander, so I need you to join me-"

"Yeah I need to talk to Ollivander..." Gallardo croaked. "What about Veera?"

"Bill's probably going to deal with her, since she's come round."

"Listen," Gallardo cleared his throat. "I think I'll help Bill interview her, and then talk to Ollivander with you. Is that all right?"

Harry looked perplexed but nodded.

After his friends had gone upstairs and were talking to Griphook, Gallardo made his way just outside the kitchen where Bill stood.

"I want to help you interview Veera," Gallardo said. Bill nodded and motioned into the kitchen.

"I take it you know that her parents and brother died some time ago?" Bill asked. Gallardo confirmed. He was intrigued by Veera, not only because she could prove to be dangerous and put them in mortal danger once more, but the way she acted in Malfoy Manor warranted some answers.

He stepped inside to the neat and spacious kitchen with the pebble white worktop and the rectangular hardwood table in the middle. Veera and Marcena sat on opposite ends scowling at each other like lionesses preparing to fight, Bill moved into the seat on her left and Gallardo moved into the one on her right.

"Hello Veera," Gallardo began as warmly as possible. "Would you like a drink? I hope I didn't hurt you too much."

"Cut the crap and don't flatter yourself!" Veera snapped. "Cut straight to the chase; what do you want from me?"

"The truth," Marcena answered simply. "And you cut the crap, because he was trying to be nice to you!"

"Ooooohhh, aren't you the lucky girl then?" Veera sneered. Did they really make it so obvious?

"Guys let's focus please!" Bill reined them in. "Now Veera, how are you?"

"What do you care?"

"You're kind of like a guest," Bill answered simply.

"I'm... all right."

"It was nice that you offered to help bury Dobby."

"Well... I tried," said Veera sadly.

"Sometimes trying is the key, something that triggers good things," Gallardo said alluringly.

"Another pep talk?" Veera scoffed. "Oh, please!"

"You seemed to really enjoy the last one, it had you trembling," Gallardo said, at which point Marcena cleared her throat. Gallardo looked at her apologetically for a split second. "More to the point, can you tell me about your family?"

"They're dead," Veera said simply.

"Who were they?" Bill prompted.

"My parents were Jack and Linda South, they died about two years ago; my brother was called Maximus, he died about six months ago. Look, I know what you're trying to do! You're trying to turn me against the Dark Lord! They all died in his service and I won't betray them."

"You do know that he doesn't give a toss about you," Gallardo said bluntly. "My friend, Harry tells me that he is in Malfoy Manor torturing and punishing the others for failing."

"The Dark Lord has the most loyal supporters for a reason!" Veera argued.

"OK, show me your arm, please," Bill asked.

"Why the fuck do you want to see my arm?" she shouted. Fleur burst in looking very concerned. Bill just smiled and waved to tell her it was OK. He said: "I'll be with you in ten minutes."

What could Bill possibly do in ten minutes to make her open up?

"I want to make a point."

She reluctantly pulled up her sleeve to reveal her pale skin.

"See? No Dark Mark, he only offers it to his most loyal supporters," Bill said. "Do you know why your parents died? It's because they opposed his 'fail and kill' or 'fail and punish' policy."

"Y-you're lying...!" Veera stammered.

"They lobbied him, but unfortunately the club isn't a democracy; they were killed, and he got his more trusted followers to cover it up."

"You don't seriously expect us to believe that you actually agree with the way he does things, with the evil and pain he inflicts on everyone?" Gallardo implored.

"On the night my brother died," Veera began looking drained of colour. "He said that he'd do something to honour our parents.

"I was in the next room, but using Extendable Ears; he was going to meet some trusted friends tomorrow to rally them. But then... he came!" She was shaking mercilessly and uncontrollably.

"Who?" Marcena asked.

"Diablus," Gallardo answered grimly. "He killed your brother didn't he? That's why you were so scared of him back at Malfoy Manor?"

"He asked Maximus to tell him where this meeting was and told him to not go ahead with it. Maximus refused, saying that he must...There was a fight... and..." Veera began to sob and tremble more violently that she had done in the manor.

"Did you tell anyone about this?" Marcena quizzed, slightly baffled, when Veera had calmed down.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know... I don't remember what happened next... I was so scared..."

"You don't have to scared any more," Gallardo consoled. "You don't have to let them define you, you can break free and become the person you were born to be."

"Thank you," sniffed Veera, quietly.

"We're really and truly sorry for your loss. OK," Bill clapped his hands together and rose. "I think we'll take a break."

Gallardo and Marcena also rose and left the kitchen, leaving Veera to recover in her own time.

"What do you think?" Bill asked them.

"I don't trust her," Marcena replied honestly. "I think she's not telling us everything. How do we know she won't escape?"

"Fleur's put blue copper in her water, so she won't be able to do any magic for now," Bill said slyly. "Let's try and get to the bottom of this today, otherwise-"

"You're not going to kill her are you?" Marcena cried.

"Oh, God no, Marcena!" Bill laughed. "Hell no! I'll just have to wipe and re-write her memory. I don't want to do that."

"I believe her," Gallardo said. "She seemed genuinely terrified of Diablus back in the manor."

"Gallardo, you're a decent and chivalrous guy," Marcena said.

"Um... OK... Thank you," Gallardo said slightly confused.

"And some people will take advantage of that, especially some girls," Marcena continued slowly. "I just worry that you're too ready to see the good in people."

Gallardo couldn't believe what he was hearing. Bill was tactful (but not subtle) enough to leave them at this point.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gallardo croaked defensively.

"Please don't get me wrong; it's a good trait and I try and use it as much as possible," Marcena explained nervously.

"Thank you," Gallardo said sarcastically.

"No Gallardo!" Marcena pleaded. "I didn't mean in like that!"

Before he could argue, Ron came down the stairs. "Hey man, we're going to talk to Ollivander, want to join us?"

"Gladly," Gallardo replied, still looking at Marcena.

Harry and Hermione were waiting at the top, they told him about the suspected Horcrux in the Lestrange's vault, the key to defeating Voldemort, and that Griphook was considering helping them. He filled them in about Veera and about what he had suspected.

"Hermione, can you have a look at her later?" he asked. "Just so we know she's not trying it on and I've not fallen for it."

"OK," she agreed.

As they were about to knock on Ollivander's room door, Harry patted Gallardo on the shoulder. "Just some advice, as a friend. If you're with someone or could be, then try really hard not to make her jealous. It's really not worth it."

"OK..." Gallardo laughed surprised. "Thanks, I'll bear that in mind."

"Come in," Ollivander said weakly. As they entered they saw the old man struggling to sit up on the bed.

"Mr Ollivander it's all right," Hermione assured. "Stay as you are, if it makes you comfortable."

"How are you?" Harry asked.

"I have been better, my boy," he replied.

"We're sorry to disturb you."

"You just saved me from that wretched place. God knows where I would be if..." Ollivander's pale face illuminated the deep scars in his face.

"Mr Ollivander, I was wondering if you could help us?" Harry asked sitting down on one of the beds next to Ron and Hermione, while Gallardo remained standing.

"Anything."

Harry took out his broken phoenix feather wand and sighed. "Can you fix this?"

"It's a nice wand: holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

"But can you fix it?"

"No," Ollivander shook his head sadly. "The strength of the magic was too strong, I cannot repair it."

"It's OK," Harry nodded. He pulled up one of the wands that he'd taken from the manor. "Can you tell me whose this is?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange, walnut and dragon heartstring, twelve and a half inches, unyielding."

"What about this?" Gallardo asked him eagerly handing him his new wand. Ollivander frowned and looked at it with difficulty, then with sudden awe.

"Silver maple and caballmeara mane," he said fascinated and suddenly beaming his colour back into his skin. "Nine point six inches and well balanced. Oh... Mr Eagle-!"

"Gallardo. My name's Gallardo,"

"Gallardo, this is truly amazing!" Ollivander almost got out of his bed to dance. "This wand was wielded by Mellon Marteslon!"

The whole room was silent. Gallardo took the wand back and raised it to the light. Could this really be the wand of Gryffindor's Apprentice, the one who had earned a House even though he wasn't a founder? If so, then why had Dumbledore given him the wand?

"Why might a wand glow, beam and vibrate, say with these objects?" Gallardo held out the fob watch and ring. They all started to do just that, they glowed melodiously Gallardo had to struggle not to slip into another "daydream"; he needed to stay in the present.

The second Ollivander set his fingers on the ring and watch they stopped glowing and resumed their normal stationary selves.

"Isn't that a Meden Ring?" Hermione asked. "A ring that is super quick and super strong at healing wounds and easing pain?"

"It is," Ollivander said. "But it seems as if these objects have a meta-wave between them. The bearer of these items, when he or she is ready is to be rewarded with a fourth. This fourth can only be won by the chosen bearer, as it is protected by one of the most ancient types of magic."

Gallardo nodded, he knew what he what this fourth item was. But how was he to get it exactly? What would make him worthy or ready? How was he to wield it? All this seemed unanswered.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"Mr Ollivander, can you tell me who this belongs to?" Harry asked holding up Draco Malfoy's wand. "Hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches, reasonably springy. This used to be the wand of Draco Malfoy," replied the old man.

"Isn't it still?" Harry quized.

"Not if you won it from him by force," Ollivander suggested.

"I didn't kill him for it though," Harry pointed out.

"It is no matter, killing is not necessary for a wand to swear its allegiance to a new master."

"Mr Ollivander you knew about the twin cores of my wand, didn't you?" Harry asked.

"How... h-how did you...?" Ollivander's skin swiftly turned pale.

"You told You-Know-Who about that and he used a borrowed wand?"

Ollivander nodded.

"But my wand still beat Lucius Malfoy's, didn't it? Why?" Harry enquired.

"I don't know why, you're wand did something remarkable that day," replied the old man baffled.

"Could it be that the wand helped Harry unleash his hidden potential?" Gallardo suggested.

"No, Gallardo," Harry said eagerly. "I don't know that sort of magic."

Gallardo frowned, slightly annoyed at Harry for denying something so simple and clear.

"Perhaps you give yourself less credit than you should," Ollivander said quietly. "Sometimes we are capable of doing the most extraordinary magic and it scares us."

"Maybe. But You-Know-Who wanted to know about another wand didn't he?" Harry changed the subject.

Ollivander looked as if he seen a ghost. "H-he tortured me... he wanted to know about the Elder wand..."

With that Ollivander drifted into an in depth discussion about how he had been captured and made to tell the Dark Lord all he knew about the wand. The Elder wand had always cropped up during wizarding history, only to disappear after for an era and to appear again for a different master. The owner of this wand always had to fear attack, but it appeared to Gallardo that taking it by killing may not be essential.

"One more thing, sir, and we'll leave you to rest. Do you know anything about the Deathly Hallows?" Harry asked rising to his feet.

Ollivander looked puzzled. "Deathly Hallows? I'm afraid I don't, is it something to do with the Elder wand?"

"Thank you for your time," Harry said leaving and being followed by Ron, Gallardo and Hermione.

The friends breathed out and looked at one another.

"I think I'll go check out Veera." Hermione suggested.

"Yeah, thanks, she's in the kitchen. Bill will fill you in," Gallardo said, struggling not to laugh at the rhyme.

As Hermione left them, they wandered into the garden. Dobby's grave was lying serenely at the end; the cool air began to descend onto them as the shrubs and trees swayed and danced in the wind. It was a medium to large garden with many bushes and flowers standing on the flowerbed which fortified the garden. In the heart of this garden was mound of earth in the shape of a circle, like a ring that spiralled into the ground.

"Grindewald must have taken the Elder wand from Gregorovich," Ron said. "I doubt they'd let him have a wand in Nuremguard."

"Because he didn't," Harry replied. "He didn't have it when he was imprisoned. That day when Dumbledore duelled him and won, he took the Elder wand from him."

"Dumbledore had the wand?" Ron exclaimed. "Then where is it now?"

"At Hogwarts, buried with him." Harry was beginning to wince and grimace in pain.

"Then let's go, quickly before You-Know-Who does!"

"It's too late for that, he's already there."

"WHAT?" Ron turned pale. "Harry, why did we talk to Griphook first? We should have gone."

"No," Harry said sitting down. "I'm not supposed to have it. I'm supposed to get the Horcruxes."

"Harry, this is insane!" Ron looked to Gallardo for support, but he shook his head.

"Maybe we're not meant to have it," Gallardo replied calmly.

"Listen, Mr Mellow!" Ron shouted. "Have we just given You-Know-Who a chance to be invincible?"

"No, Ron, don't you get it?" Gallardo beamed. "He gets the wand thinking that he is!"  
"So?"

"So he becomes arrogant and let's his guard down, that's when we strike him hard." Gallardo thumped his palm. "Right Harry?"

Before Harry could reply a loud wail called from the kitchen. The three men drew their wands and charged inside. Veera was bawling and shaking helplessly, with Hermione holding her and crooning, Bill looking flabbergasted and Marcena rushing to get a glass of water.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"Guys, I think you should give us a minute," Hermione said.

Bill rose and escorted the other men out as silently and courteously as possible.

"What happened?" Harry repeated once they were outside.

Bill said nothing, looking deeply disturbed. "Something I wouldn't wish on anyone."

From inside they could hear Veera saying: "A-after killing Maximus he told me... to keep q-quiet! I told him I would, but he didn't believe me! H-he pinned me to the wall; he gagged me, he cut into me and h-he ripped my shirt... oh!" Her voice faded into soft sobbing as it dawned on them what had happened, giving them a deep nausea feeling. They had seen terrible things, cruel things over the past two years, but this was something vile, perpertrated by someone purely because they could, without any pity for their victims, or even for themselves.

Ron and Gallardo began to tremble and fume. The men marched angrily to the living room.

"Man, to his own?" Ron breathed. "I knew Diablus was a monster but to do that to his own?"

"How many more?" Gallardo clenched his fist. So much remained uncertain, but the monstrosity and the fact that Diablus was prepared to go to extraordinary lengths for his desires was absolutely certain.

 

"Hey," Marcena caught up with Gallardo that night, as he came out of the bathroom. "You were right. About Veera." She tilted her head to the side.

"So were you," he stroked his hair back. "In a way, she was hiding something."

"It wasn't her fault," Marcena shook her head. "Poor girl witnessed her brother's death and got... assaulted. You were right to give her the benefit of doubt."

"Marcena, can I ask..." Gallardo cleared his throat; a question was burdening his mind. "Not that it would make me think any differently of you. But when you were captured by Greyback did they...?"

Marcena shook her head. "No, thank God, no. If they'd held me for longer then I may not have been so lucky."

Gallardo shuddered and rested his hands on her shoulder. "What matters now is that your safe."

The light bulb above them illuminated a way forwards; her green and yellow tunic awed him almost half as much as she did, it silently cheered him on but he held back.

"So," he coughed, courteously. "Tell me about Potterwatch."

"Well, actually you inspired me to do something like that."

"Me?" Gallardo laughed. "How?"

Marcena took a deep breath. "First of all, I want to apologise for-"

"It's OK, you've done that already," Gallardo said quickly.

"No, it needs saying!" Marcena cried. "I'm sorry I made it seem as if I'd choose Thoburn over you, I'm sorry that I was cold towards you. I'm sorry that I actually believed that you would spread false and spiteful rumours about me!"

"You felt angry that I didn't tell you about continuing the DA, after Umbridge had caught us," Gallardo defended her.

"Because you were trying to protect me!"

"Plus your aunt, uncle and granddad had just died."

"Still," Marcena touched his arm, sending a tingling feeling in his stomach, he quickly held her hand, hoping that he wasn't shaking. Marcena continued: "It doesn't excuse shutting you out. It definitely doesn't excuse me believing that you ever could!"

"Look, babe," Gallardo looked towards the ceiling and signalled a deep breath. "I knew the real you was still there and the true you was worth sticking around for. It's not our mistakes that make us who we are, it's about how hard we try to overcome our faults, and you did brilliantly!"

After a moment of smiling, Marcena continued. "Gallardo, you jinxed him and knife-handed him, even though he was bigger than you," she laughed weakly. "Most guys would have just walked on. And when the bench gave you the choice of apologising to Gary Thoburn or losing your place on the Quidditch team, you stuck to your guns."

"Well, I couldn't apologise and mean it," Gallardo laughed, looking down briefly.

"Gallardo, if we could all stand up to these bullies then the world would be a much better place. That's why I chose to join Potterwatch."

"I'm proud of you," Gallardo gave a her a little nudge as they started walking towards the room she was sharing with Luna, Hermione and Veera; but they were in no rush. "Still, I'm not happy that you were sent on the front line all on your own."

She smiled back. "Are you feeling a lot better, since your injuries?"

"Yeah, never better," Gallardo beamed. She slapped him on the cheek, so suddenly and sharply.

"Ow!" Gallardo yelled. "What's that for?"

"Never get yourself tortured like that again!" she cried. "You understand?" She caressed the side of his head before whispering: "I'm sorry."

"Yes, ma'am," he held her hands in his and looked into her eyes; she looked back; he felt her pulse race as he raised her delicate hands to his mouth and kissed them gently. His own heart start racing and rooting for him. "I want you to know, Marcena, that I'm always here for you, if you want to talk or... Because you are a girl worth protecting."

"Thanks," she blushed. She raised herself to his cheek and planted a soft yet powerful peck that took him by surprise as it cushioned the stinging of the strike; he returned it on her forehead quickly yet sweetly.

"Goodnight," he cleared his throat, stepping back and nodding to the door.

Marcena stroked her smooth hair behind her ears and smiled before walking into her room. Gallardo caught a glimpse of Hermione grinning to him inside.

He grinned to himself before turning away and punching the air. He headed downstairs to where the boys were to sleep and lay in his camp bed on the floor. All the guys picked up his vibrant mood and looked at him.

"Well?" Dean asked.

"Well what?" Gallardo stared at the ceiling.

"Mate, our ears do more than decorate our heads!" Ron retorted. "Seriously, man, how long did that take you? Eight years?"

"Is she as smoking and sexy as she looks?" Dean laughed. At this, the brotherly banter died and Gallardo shot him a furious glare.

"Mate, I respect her and so will you!" Gallardo commanded.

"Sorry man," Dean said ruefully.

"Careful, he'll challenge you to a duel," Harry laughed, this time it spread contagiously.

"This time she won't be here to stop me," Gallardo grinned slyly.

"Mate, I didn't mean it," Dean said, looking slightly scared. "So, you really care about her don't you? I mean... you actually..."

Gallardo nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I do."

"Make sure you give us an invite," Harry chuckled. "Does that mean I'm going to be your best man?"

"No!" Ron yelled. "I've known him for longer! I'm his best man!"

"Guys, we're not ten year old girls planning our wedding!" Gallardo rolled his eyes. "And let's get some sleep, or else Hermione's going to be my best man!"

They burst into laughter once more, before closing their eyes for some needed sleep.

Gallardo Eagle sighed with content, he had done something remarkable a few minutes ago but when he would wake, he would regret his decision and realise the potential consequences.


	4. Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Here lies Dean Thomas, 12th January 1980- 8th March 1999. Your sacrifice will be remembered for eternity."
> 
> Gallardo is shown his past, present and future.

* * *

The eerie fog covered the marshy landscape and the cry of vultures shook Gallardo's spine. He was dressed in jeans, a shirt and his grey jacket. He jogged on into the distance; there was something he needed to see, that something was beckoning him to come. There was a tree that bent to his side, its branches protruded completely exposed with no leaves to protect it.

Gallardo looked to the side to see the rotting corpses of Fenrir Greyback, Melchalot and many other Snatchers being chewed on by half a dozen vultures. At once Gallardo recognised where he was.

But what called out to him was not the carcass of his enemy but a mound of earth that was raised just opposite it. A slab of stone lay on top of it. From a birds-eye view Gallardo could see the carving.

_Here lies Dean Thomas, 12_ _th_ _January 1980- 8t_ _h_ _March 1999. Your sacrifice will be remembered for eternity._

Gallardo's heart skipped a beat. This was impossible! Dean was alive, they were speaking just a few minutes ago. Before he could discourse with himself on whether this was a trick, the background faded and he was somewhere new.

He was now on a grassland with a complex of tepee like tents that were erected and towered above him. In the distance some majestic mountains towered more proudly, seemingly welcoming him to their dominion. He saw the foundations of a fortress being built, by about a hundred workers labouring with their sweat and some heavy machinery lifting blocks of stone.

Before he could admire the beauty of the mountains in awe, he caught a figure standing opposite him. A man, who was roughly his height, stood menacingly with a black hood concealing his face. He wore a leather breeches, boots and gloves, he wore navy blue armour with the figure of a red fire breathing dragon branded on.

For a moment Hooded and Gallardo looked straight at each other. Neither seemed to want to move in case the other attacked. Strangely enough, a voice in Gallardo's head told him not to worry or fight. Hooded just nodded and spun on his heel before beginning to walk away.

Gallardo drew his wand and began to follow him closely. What was going on, had he seen him? Why didn't he try and curse him?

Hooded strode into the camp complex and through the many soldiers in brown uniforms who saluted him and returned to their patrol duty outside their respective tents. Apart from the soldiers, the tents appeared to be completely dead- dead and eerie.

Hooded marched onto a plaza with a crowd of people in many grey to red to brown outfits. All the chatter died out as he descended into the open space. He seated himself on wooden throne on a raised platform, he was flanked by a number of well disciplined and blank faced soldiers. Gallardo squeezed into the crowd, eagerly awaiting what would happen next.

A woman was manhandled and thrown to the ground in front of Hooded, who just laughed at her and through the silhouette of his hood he glared at her.

"So, tell me," Hooded demanded. "How long have you been serving the Death Eaters, while benefiting from my hospitality?" His voice seemed terrifyingly familiar, strong and deep.

"Please... no, it's not like that!" cried the woman, who Gallardo recognised as Veera. "I didn't tell them much... they threatened my children! You must understand!"

"I don't believe a word you say!" snarled Hooded as he faced the crowd. "The Dark Lord and his minions need to be sent a message: if they try and beat us we will strike them with a hundred times the strength and pain!" The crowd went wild and cheered as Hooded pointed a wand at Veera, who bowed her head in terror and released lone tears down her face.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_ snapped Hooded, the green emission of light confirmed Veera's fate.

"NOOOO!" a blond man rushed out of the crowd; Gallardo recognised Draco Malfoy at once.

Draco drew his wand but was electrocuted to his knees as he shouted in pain.

"Is this how you treat informants?" he challenged after he had recovered. "She was coerced and you know she had no choice!"

Hooded marched off his throne and placed his face near Draco's. "She was a liar who put herself before our cause and our nation! If my justice offends you so much, Mr Malfoy, then you know what to do." He stepped back and beckoned to one of the soldiers, who drew a dagger in a scabbard and handed it do Draco.

Draco Malfoy's hand began to shake as the crowd watched eagerly. Gallardo could see beads of sweat trying to comfort him. Draco looked up to the sky and let out a grim sigh, followed by a grim smile.

"Very well," Draco ripped the torso of the red uniform that he was wearing and drew the dagger. He raised it to the sky and it then dawned on Gallardo what he was about to do. Draco let out a tenor's scream as the dagger pierced his abdomen. Gallardo watched in horror as Draco dug in and yanked the dagger left and right, as his blood leaked from his body and soaked the ground. The soldier who had handed him the dagger pointed his wand at Draco's neck.

" _Sectumsempra!"_ bellowed the soldier. Gallardo looked away, dreading what he would see when he looked back. Just then, he saw someone else he recognised standing next to him. Someone he was glad to see: his younger brother. Glenn Eagle.

"Hey, Glenn, mate!" he patted him on the back. "It's me, Gallardo!"

Glenn didn't seem to notice or feel his presence. He just looked on blankly.

"You can't hear me can you?" Gallardo said, his heart sinking.

But it seemed as if something else was on Glenn's mind, he cleared his throat and addressed Hooded. "There are t-two people, a fourteen year old girl and a twelve year old boy, who may know the whereabouts of Ron Weasely. They're in-in the interrogation tent."  
"Good! Excellent!" Hooded growled sadistically.

"P-promise me," Glenn began. "That you won't-"

"I, am the Dragon of Alberion, and I will do what is necessary to protect my friends and our country!" Hooded retorted.

The crowd cheered him at this, but Gallardo's stomach knotted and twisted.

Alberion turned on his heel and strode away from the crowd. Gallardo looked from Glenn's ghostly face to Alberion escaping to do something horrendous and unspeakable. He sighed and cast a perception filter on himself, because he had to see what was going on.

He followed Alberion into a tent that was further away from the others, unlike the other tents this one had its grass totally emaciated and withered. Inside there were two guards; Alberion nodded to them and said:"Leave us!" The duo bowed and exited so it was only Alberion, Gallardo and two children, a boy and a slightly older girl dressed in ripped and ragged robes, who were trembling in the corner of the tent.

"Now," Alberion sat down on a chair. "First thing's first, what are your names?" A moment went by with no answer. "Answer me now!"

The children jumped suddenly. The girl spoke first, "Keira McGregor."

"Eli McGregor," the boy said about to cry. Gallardo saw a glimpse of a tattoo on Keira's arm. It was a battle axe and a cobra in a ball of fire.

"No, sir!" pleaded Keira. "They forced us to have the Demon's Flame! We had no-!"

"Let me give you one piece of advice, young lady!" Alberion yelled grabbing her chin. "I saw you both at the Air Tower where Ron Weasely was captured by your lot. Where is he?"

"Sir, we don't know," Eli tried to intercede.

"Do not lie to me... EVER!" roared Alberion as he threw Keira back and raised his wand. The children hugged each other desperately and let out a frightened cry; Gallardo aimed a punch right into Alberion's head, surprisingly sending him stumbling into some chairs. He then turned to Alberion and pinned him to the side and pointed his wand. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? They're kids for God's sake! You're acting like a complete Death Eater!"

"Ah, Gallardo Eagle," Alberion spat wincing. "I was wondering how long it would take you to stop me."

"So, you were basically torturing kids waiting for me to stop you? You're sick, you hear me?" Gallardo challenged. He turned to see them still cowering. "It's OK; Eli, Keira, you're safe."

"They can't hear you," Alberion said. "Only I can."

"I don't know who or what you think you are-!" Gallardo said, trying to calm down and assert some rational authority.

"Do you know who I am?" Alberion interrupted.

"Should I?"

"Very well, I will tell you," Alberion smiled cruelly. "But first I will show you yourself. In the meantime you can call me the Dragon"

"What do you mean?" Gallardo said sceptically.

The tent faded in a flash and they were at the bottom of a flight of stairs. A corridor led into a living room.

"Do you recognise this place?" the Dragon said.

"Yeah, it's... my house," Gallardo answered.

"Was your house," the Dragon said.

"What're you talking about?" Gallardo scoffed.

"Look around," the Dragon suggested. Sure enough on the top of the stairs sat a younger Glenn and Mary, Gallardo and Glenn's sister, they were listening on the end of an Extendable Ear. This Ear led down into the living room where Clive and Miranda Eagle sat talking to Avery and Dawlish.

"So, can you confirm that your son Gallardo Eagle is friends with Harry Potter?" Dawlish said.

"Yes, he has mentioned him," Miranda answered.

"So where has he gone, if he's not at home?" Dawlish asked.

"That I don't know," Miranda said.

"You don't know?" Avery scoffed. "You don't know where your son is? What kind of a mother are you?" Gallardo wanted to look Avery in the eye and tell him to back off, but Clive stepped in.

"Her maternal skills are neither relevant nor at fault!" he snapped. For a split second Gallardo gained an ounce of respect for this man.

Clive stood up. "You want to know where Gallardo is?"

"Of course we do, fool!" Avery grunted.

"The truth is I don't know," Clive said simply. "I honestly don't know where he's gone. A few weeks ago he called me a 'coward', a 'bully' and he left us. He was always a disappointment; I always knew that he couldn't take heat or pressure. I always knew that he would crumble when things got hard. If he is with Harry Potter or whoever, he will lose his nerve and flee!" Miranda shot him and angry glare, but Clive seemed unaffected.

"Truth is he left us and went, I don't know where he is!" Clive snarled.

Even though Gallardo expected as much from him each sentence stabbed and twisted in his flesh. He wished that he was back being excruciated by Greyback and he swallowed, exhaling furiously. He clenched and unclenched his fists; Avery and Dawlish were rising.

"How does it feel to let your old man down?" the Dragon jeered. "While your family suffers your absence?"

"I don't live just to impress my dad," Gallardo croaked, holding back angry tears. "I did what I had to for the greater good."

"You keep telling yourself that!" the Dragon stepped back. "But you know the truth! You left because you couldn't take the pressure of an overbearing dad! And now, your loved ones are paying the price!"

"No!" Gallardo protested. "I told Glenn to look after Mary and Mama! I told Neville to look after them at Hogwarts!"

The Dragon laughed menacingly. "Do you really think that's good enough? How old is Glenn? Fifteen?"

"He's a man!" Gallardo snapped defensively. "He's not on his own!"

"Gallardo, just look at your brother and sister. Look at them!"

On the top of the stairs flowed the sound of weeping. Mary Eagle was clearly starting to cry, holding her head in her hand. Glenn just looked gob smacked as Mary convulsed with tears.

Gallardo felt a warm tear caress his cheek as he looked at Mary and as she looked passed him. He wanted to go and sit with them and tell them it would be all right, that he would protect them and be there for them, like a real big brother would.

"I-I never meant for any of this to happen," he murmured, wiping his eyes.

"Of course you didn't," the Dragon cooed, mockingly. "But it did, because of you and now your loved ones are paying for it. You know, your mother cried almost everyday since you left? Because of you, your loved ones will pay even more!"

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Gallardo growled.

"All in good time, Ardo, my man, all in good time," the Dragon said slyly.

The setting faded into what looked like a dark room full of candles, where a woman with dark hair looked out of a window and into the night. Next to her was Dora, comforting her, while Miranda wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I don't know how Molly does it," croaked Miranda, her hands shaking.

"It's not easy, Miranda, it's not easy," Dora sighed.

"I know-I know!" she started sobbing. "But I keep thinking... what if... what if... they find a body, and it's of his friends, or of him?"

"Ssssshhh," Dora held her close. "Wherever he is, they'll look after him, and he'll look after them."

Miranda nodded, and cracked a weak smile. "I know... he's a good man... but he's so young... he's still my little boy! I was angry the last time I saw him... I literally blanked him before he left... and I may never see him again!"

Gallardo's heart was wrenching with guilt. How could he be so stupid? All he could do was silently wipe his tears, as the woman who had carried him and loved him like something so precious, felt like she had wronged him, but he knew that it was he who had wronged her by just leaving without a proper goodbye.

"Now let's take a peak into the future shall we?"

The surroundings faded to transport the two into a cemetery, with the sombre night overseeing them without the glow of stars there to greet them, a mile of clouds blindfolded the sky. A city approximately a mile from where they stood burned like a furnace, with people screaming.

"We should help them," Gallardo suggested quietly.

"No," replied the Dragon coldly. "There is nothing we can do for them. Not now anyway."

"Where are we?" Gallardo demanded just as coldly.

"We are seven years after your time line, and three years before mine."

"So, why have you brought me here?" Gallardo looked around, feeling rather queasy he sensed a big burden on his back and on his heart, weighing him down. But he had to breathe and keep his reserve.

"Look at the graves," the Dragon said. "To your right."

Gallardo glanced to see many grand and simple gravestones, ranging from white angels to marble gravestones, there were four marble ones that caught his eye.

"Harry Potter..." Gallardo read out loud. "Hermione Granger... Hestia Jones... Oh God," he folded his arms and shook his head sadly. "Man, how?"

"It's not important," the Dragon answered simply. "These graves are pretty recent though."

"Of course it's important!" Gallardo snapped. "My friends have been killed and I want to know why?"

"I think what's in the city will be of more interest to you." The surroundings faded once more as Gallardo cursed angrily at the game the Dragon was playing.

The withered buildings of this city crumbled slowly and painfully as the damage of the dying fires had already been done. Smoke hallowed the dead and the beaten as behind the rubble, a lone tree lay felled, crumpled and torn.

"What happened here?" Gallardo asked even more sad than he was.

"There is a battle that's going on at the moment, our people, the Order, and the Death Eaters, they have retreated for the time being. But we eventually loose this one."

"Why?" Gallardo asked.

The Dragon brought himself to Gallardo's face so they were inches away; behind the silhouette of the hood he could see a silver mask, which covered the eyes and the nose. Beneath he could roughly make out the olive complexion and the scars on the chin. "Because Lord Voldemort's protege leads this one and lives long enough to become more powerful than any wizard alive by your time! Trust me, Lord V is a pushover compared to this one! But something happens right here, something that makes you go into self-exile for a whole year!"

"What might that be?" Gallardo paced to the side keeping a safe striking distance between himself and the Dragon, who beckoned to a scaffolding next to a well. Underneath this scaffolding lay a woman with black hair and green robes. There were pieces of shrapnel piercing her side, as her blood left her body. As Gallardo got closer, he realised, to his horror, who she was.

"Mary!" he yelled rushing towards her in anguish.

"There's nothing you can do for her," the Dragon said, grabbing his arm, Gallardo fiercely yanked it free before facing him.

"Listen to me!" he said aggressively. "That's my little sister under the rubble and I'm going to help her!" He rushed in to lift the scaffolding up; Mary let out a soft cry of pain. He pulled her out as gently as possible and knelt beside her cradling her head in his arms.

"Hey it's OK," he said desperately stroking her hair. He felt the residue of warmth on her cheek and his heart leapt in hope. "C'mon, stay with me little sis, please!"

"She can't hear you!" the Dragon scoffed. "You find her body the next day."

"I don't care!" he bellowed, refusing to accept that Mary could die. "I can hear her!" He rocked her to and fro. "Mary, if you can hear me, squeeze my finger please!" he pleaded. He felt a fragile grip on his finger and he had no choice but to let himself go here, he couldn't hold back those tears any longer.

"Hey, look at you... still holding on... being strong."

Mary gasped in pain and her breathing became more quickened.

"No, please... stay with me!" Gallardo begged. "I should never have left you! I'm so sorry, I should never have left you or Glenn!"

"She was a medic," the Dragon said. "Determined to preserve and save the lives of others."

Gallardo just held her stroking her bruised and scarred chin and cheeks, which were slowly getting colder. "I know I've let you down, I am so so sorry. NO! DON'T LEAVE ME, PLEASE!" He'd started weeping at this stage oblivious to everything else. "I should have been there for you, I should have been a better big brother... I love you..."

"Love... you too..." said Mary like a gentle and temporary breeze that would inevitably fade. Gallardo began sobbing as she stopped breathing and lay still. He held her head to his neck and chin for a moment and refused to let go. After a while he lay her down and touched her forehead with his lips and said: "Bless you, Mary." He drew back and took a few deep breaths to compose himself. He reached into his pocket and drew his wand.

"I will find whoever did this!" he growled. "I will bring him to his knees and I kill him!"

"Good!" the Dragon called. "Excellent! You see all that bitterness, that rage and that anger inside you will build up and define who you are! You're naïve compassion, mercy and initial cowardice will fade. Soon you will become a lot like me!" He took out his wand which appeared to be the silver maple one Gallardo had.

"So, we have a similar wand!" Gallardo argued. "That does not mean I'm like you! I would _never_ torture kids like you did!"

"You have no idea, do you? This is inevitable, it is a necessary evil that you should embrace!"

"No, it's not, I am nothing like you! I would never kill someone who is defenceless in cold blood! I hate those who do! I have only ever used my anger temporarily and my passion for positive things."

"Ah yes..." the Dragon walked around the rubble. "Marcena always got in the way of your potential. Always trying to wrap you around her finger, always trying to trap you!"

"You don't know her!" Gallardo snapped.

"She even falls pregnant with your daughter!" the Dragon scoffed.

"We have a daughter?" Gallardo cracked a smile.

"Yes!" snapped the Dragon. "You do, but even your girlfriend learns to see you for what you really are! She then miscarries because of the tough decisions you have to make as Commander."

Gallardo felt like he had been stabbed in the heart as his knees began to shake, he had to pace some more to keep them in use. "No! That can't be true, it just can't!"

"Yes it is! But it turns out for the best, she held you back so much and you were so much better without her and her daughter. They were a waste of space!"

Gallardo fumed and punched the Dragon before slamming him down. He pointed his wand at his throat. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I will find you and I will destroy you before your reign of terror begins! Believe you me, you do not know what I'm capable of!" His right knuckle began to ache from the punch he had delivered, as did his head with all the blood charging and rampaging in his brain. He wanted an excuse to kill this man right now, for a second he hoped he would confess to being responsible for Mary's death.

The Dragon just calmly wiped blood from his mouth.

"Pride," he said rolling over before rising. "Vanity and arrogance. You're already becoming like me!"

Gallardo took a deep breath to calm himself down. His skin was like the Sahara, as he felt like it scorch and burn with heat.

"No, I won't give you the satisfaction," he said defiantly. "I know that this is not my destiny. I won't let this happen. Take me back home!" He lauded himself silently for his determination and fortitude.

The Dragon edged towards him. "Very well, first I will tell you who I am- no I will show you, then you can go home."

"Thank you for your permission!" Gallardo remarked sarcastically.

The Dragon and Gallardo stood directly opposite each other, leaving only half a metre between them. They were the same height and both glared at each other menacingly and in mutual defiance.

"Gallardo Eagle," the Dragon said mockingly. "I have shown you your past, present and a bit of the future." He started lowering his hood slowly, as an olive skinned man with enhancing deep scars on his chin and cheeks was revealed. He had black hair and a silver mask that covered the top part of his face. Gallardo watched on in denial as he refused to accept who he might see under the mask.

"Now I give you... yourself!" the Dragon removed his mask and let it slip to the floor. Gallardo shook his head in terror as the man who he looked upon grinned cruelly. This man was someone he thought he knew, this man was someone he thought he could trust, this man was supposed to be a hero, this man was bloodshot, mad, sadistic and bitter. But Gallardo knew exactly who he was as he looked upon himself.

" _I_ am your future! _I_ am your fate!"


	5. Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Every man has two lions inside him. One represents rage, lust, sin, bitterness, vanity, selfishness, arrogance, despair and falsehood. The other is Truth. Wisdom. Justice. Hope. Serenity. Love. Compassion. Courage. And Honour. These two lions are constantly clashing with each other. So which one wins? Whichever one you feed."

_10th March 1999_

"Noooooooo!" Gallardo jumped up from his mattress in horror. He rushed past either a confused Harry or Ron, who'd just woken up to ask what was going on. Gallardo dashed into the bathroom and quickly turned on the light.

He felt the lakes of sweat around his body as he waited for his eyes to adjust. He rushed to the sink to extinguish the fire that was consuming his soul, the fire that would take him, the fire that made his skin so hot. He felt the cool water on his face, for a moment he felt like he was back just before Malfoy Manor, when Marcena had stopped him from killing Greyback, he felt that rain blessing him.

However, when he opened his eyes he looked towards his face. On his chin and right cheek he could see the faint residue of a scar. On his left cheek a stream of water was illuminated by the light. Suddenly, he was back in the burning city staring at his own menacing, cruel and dark self, this version of him taunted him for his cowardice, his self-righteousness and ignorance.

Gallardo began to tremble and shake as the sweat patches under the arm pits of his vest grew. He would not become who he was seeing. He grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be a bottle of shaving foam, and he thrust it at the man he saw, with complete hatred.

The smashing sound probably woke up the whole house, but he did not care. The door flew opened behind him, just as he wiped a tear from his eye and inhaled to compose his convulsing limbs.

"Gallardo?" a baffled Luna said. Gallardo pulled away from the sink and made a move out of the bathroom without making eye contact. "Gallardo, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," he said untruthfully.

She grabbed on to his arm. "Tell me, what's wrong? Why do you feel so hot?"

He yanked his arm free quickly. "Just stay the hell away from me!" he yelled in her face, seeing the genuine fear and shock in her eyes he ran down to grab his jacket. He rushed out of the front door and ran. Just ran. A man in a vest, tracksuit bottoms and a jacket ran out of the house, he used his last few sources of energy to sprint, right to the top of the cliffside.

The night was deserted and quiet, except for his frantic panting. The higher altitude greeted him with a cool breeze that was not only refreshing but also long lasting. The sea below him was vast and strong as it swam over the rocks, slowly wearing them down. It would not let them weigh it down, it would not let them stop itself. Gallardo seated himself on a rock nearby and just watched the blue deep roar majestically and roam nobly. For that one minute, he seemed to forget everything and just sat there cross legged and admiring the scenery of the great sea and the silver half moon illuminating it's light on him even though the night was dark and half of it remained hidden; yet what about the other half? What about the way forward? He remembered Dumbledore's words in his will _"May it give you light in times of darkness."_ He had not brought the Nuri Lamp with him; how was it supposed to save him from himself?

Just then a figure in greyish blue robes appeared to his right, but Gallardo did not seem alarmed or agitated. He was too numb to fight, confront or think about anything.

"Someone told me I was needed," Professor Leono Marks smiled. "What's on your mind?"

"Professor Marks, sir," Gallardo said placidly but slightly relieved . "In my fifth year what grade did you give my first Psysocius homework?"

Marks chuckled realising why he had said that. "I gave you a Poor, and I told you not to treat it like a pub quiz, you were capable of something better. It's me, don't worry." Marks had a bandage to his right temple, his skin appeared more worn than usual and he was growing a black-brown stubble.

Gallardo smiled briefly but lost it and stared into the starry and lunar sky. "Look at me, sir, I'm a mess... I've got a really dark future for me."

He told him all about the dream, about how his family were suffering, about who he was to become, about how bleak the way ahead was and about how all his friends and family were in terrible danger. He mentioned about him making decisions that would cause the mother of his child to miscarry, but left out the fact that she would be Marcena, who was Mark's step-daughter.

Marks nodded understandingly, but then put a hand on his shoulder.

"Gallardo, listen to me. I have known you for how long? Seven-eight years? I know for a fact that you are not this vengeful and bitter demi-god that you've described. You're better than that!"

"How can you know that?" Gallardo asked flattered, yet sceptical. "How can you know that I won't become that monster?" He stood up and stared over the edge of the cliff, there was a perfect yet flowing reflection of the moon and the dark sky.

"Gallardo, believe you me, your dad, your mum, Mary and Glenn are proud of you."

"I left them when I shouldn't have, for selfish reasons," Gallardo shook his head sadly.

"Gallardo, listen to me," Marks implored him. "If everything was perfect at home would you still have gone and stood by Harry and your friends?"

Gallardo had not thought of it that way, "Maybe."

"Yeah, you would have!" Marks exclaimed. "Of course you would have! You are very loyal, courageous and determined, especially when your friends are concerned.

"Mary and Glenn are now as thick as thieves, your mum is fine and... you know what? Your dad isn't the easiest person to read or understand, I'll admit, but he loves you and is proud of the man you are. He thinks you are a better man than he was!"

"Seems too good to be true," Gallardo croaked.

"Well it is! It's true and there'll come a day when he will tell you that. But until then you have to promise me that you'll be patient and not let the hatred or bitterness define you."

"I wish I could," Gallardo said quietly. "I really do, but I'm... I'm so scared!"

"Hey, listen up!" Marks held Gallardo's head firmly but gently in his hands; Gallardo began to swallow and feel numb. "Every man has two lions inside him. One represents rage, lust, sin, bitterness, vanity, selfishness, arrogance, despair and falsehood. The other is Truth. Wisdom. Justice. Hope. Serenity. Love. Compassion. Courage. And Honour. These two lions are constantly clashing with each other.

"So, which one wins? I hear you ask," Marks continued before leading Gallardo back to the rock.

"Whichever one you feed," he said simply. "I have faith in you, Gallardo, so have faith in yourself."

Gallardo smiled and looked down. He then faced Marks. "I certainly hope you're right, thanks." After a few moments he said, "Why don't you come back and meet the others?" he motioned to Shell Cottage.

"I can't," Marks shook his head. "That's not why I came. Gallardo remember that poem that Dumbledore wrote for you?"

Gallardo nodded and began reciting:

" _Be not baffled by what is not apparent,_

_Even if the way ahead seems as dark as coal,_

_Retreat and thought make things more transparent,_

_The natural mantra can cleanse body, mind and soul._

_True friends and allies are those who do not forsake,_

_Those who put bonds given freely before pleasure of the loin,_

_Their fight is your fight, their fate is your fate,_

_Know this, young Guardian, you are a side of the same coin._

_Your enemies fear the future because of the past,_

_The past is fast and they cannot run,_

_You answer to your destiny, to many not just your one._

_You face your darkness, stay true to yourself and to your role,_

_Remember who you are, you master your spirit, you steer your soul."_

Gallardo took a deep breath. "It's one big riddle, apparently I have to look into the past to defeat my enemy, Diablus."

Marks nodded and beckoned with his hand. "OK, not far off, but one step at a time. Close your eyes."

Gallardo closed his eyes.

"OK just listen, what do your hear?"

The sound of sea marching confidently, the harmony of the crickets and the owls singing melodiously and the swaying of the family of trees that stood some miles away from the cliff were what Gallardo could listen and feel.

"Now, I want you to focus on them uniting behind the sound of your heart, your purest heart possible," Marks crooned hypnotically. He took out a fob watch from his pocket, Gallardo peaked and realised that it was the same one he owned.

"Where did you get that?" he asked.

"You gave it to me," Marks replied cheekily. "Or at least you will, it works telepathically, you know. Powerful thing- the mind and heart; remember what I told you in your very first Psysocius lesson?"

"You said that true magic is only-"

"Twenty percent from the wand and eighty percent from the heart and the mind!" they both chimed. Marks chuckled placidly. "If you're only going to remember one thing, then remember this," he said rising with the watch out. "No one, I mean no one, has the right to tell you what is or what isn't your fate before it happens."

Gallardo nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"Oh and one more thing," Marks began to smile coyly and squeezed his shoulder. "I don't know how far you are, but you have my blessing. I know you won't let me down." With that he winked, held the watch and vanished with a flash, leaving a surprised Gallardo sitting on the rock.

He remained there for about half an hour trying to clear his mind, listening to the sounds around him, trying to synch them to the rhythm of his heart. It was hard to focus, but not impossible, he was knocking on a gate, waiting for an answer. It may be a long wait, but every knock made him feel in control of himself, each knock made him feel strong and determined.

Dawn started descending onto him, the rays of light and a chirp of the birds told him that he better go back home.

Bill was waiting for him just outside the house in his coat. He smiled with his arms folded.

"Bill, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"It's OK," Bill nodded. "Let's get you inside."

Gallardo walked inside to see Luna standing in the corridor, immediately he flushed with guilt. "Listen um... Luna," he began as she looked at him attentively yet almost fearfully. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like I did, you were trying to help. I know this doesn't excuse it, but I realised a darker side to me and I was afraid that I would hurt you. So, what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry. Hug it out?" he attempted some light humour. She smiled and hugged him.

"That's OK, you're a nice guy, I know that."

Gallardo took a sip from a bottle of blueberry juice that was in the fridge, he wiped his mouth and thought about what Marks had said. Before he talked to his friends and explained his frantic behaviour he needed to feed one of the lions. He went upstairs and knocked on the girls' room and politely took a step back.

Veera answered the door looking really tired and sheepish, her make up around her eyes was stained and worn down.

"Hey, you OK?" he asked.

Veera nodded sadly.

"Is there anything we can do for you?"

"You've already done a lot," she whispered patting him on the shoulder.

"OK, if there is anything... you let us know," Gallardo nodded his head. "Is Marcena there?"

Veera stepped aside and exited past Gallardo as he entered.

The room was fairly large, the walls were white and there was a wardrobe in the corner. There were four small beds, on the one opposite the window sat Marcena in her long and loose jade kimono, which was decorated with pink flowers. She had her collar bone length hair loose and was brushing it back elegantly and gracefully like a dolphin swimming through the deep ocean. He just leaned against the door frame and grinned meekly.

"What?" Marcena asked smiling. "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm not too bad, not too bad. How are you?" She said that she was also fine. He walked towards the space that she had made for him and sat down. She faced him attentively with her hands in her lap.

"I had a terrible dream, only that... it didn't feel like a dream..." Gallardo explained without looking directly at her. "I treated Luna pretty badly when she was only trying to help, because I was so scared of myself."

She just nodded while whispering "OK" and silently beckoned to hear more. He explained what he had seen, in his dream and when he saw Marks. Again he left out the part where he caused her miscarriage and scared her off, he just told her about him driving her away with his templar methods.

"Oh, Gallardo," Marcena crooned sadly, holding his arm gently. "I'm always here to help you and protect you. You won't get rid of me easy!"

Gallardo laughed lightly. "Thanks... that means a lot." He struggled to hold back some tears but took a deep breath and laughed again. His heart was racing madly, telling him to give in, to believe.

"It's not our inner darkness that defines us," Marcena consoled. "It's about what we're prepared to do to overcome it. I remember you telling me something similar."

"Yeah," Gallardo said dreamily, as the mantra of the sea washed over the rocks. "Thanks for stopping me from killing Greyback, it felt really... I don't know... liberating."

"Any time, babe," Marcena awed. "Besides, he is still alive and so is Dean, so maybe what you saw was fiction."

"Maybe," Gallardo said. "But there are certain things that the Dragon talked about that weren't fiction. My relationship with my dad is so far from perfect. You know sometimes he would talk at me, finding fault in everything I did, exaggerating my mistakes and he would constantly put me down, or that's how it felt."

"Can't have been easy?" Marcena stroked his shoulder.

"No, but sometimes when he would smoke this thing called _Hasha_ it's a sweet smelling but addictive plant, it would loosen him up and he would change, become way more approachable and he would inspire me like the dad I've always wanted.

"Like he'd come out and tell me that: 'A true man is someone who can put others before him,' and 'When we fall down, we can either wallow in the mud of self-pity or walk the meadow of determination and hope.' It felt like my dad had changed, but then he would go back to being his usual self. There came a point when I told myself that my purpose isn't to make _him_ proud of me, that I no longer cared what he thinks of me... truth is I sometimes still get bitter and resentful over it... and it terrifies me!" He wiped his face, clenched his fist and looked away.

"And you've been carrying this in all this time?" she caressed his hand sadly.

"Yeah," he croaked

"Well, how about you take the positive things that he taught you," Marcena pressed his shoulders. "And you reject the negative and destructiveness. How about that?"

Gallardo nodded, he started beaming at her. "Yeah. You know, I sometimes wonder what I did to deserve someone like you in my life."

Marcena blushed and held his hand in hers . "You grew up to be a decent man; you're constantly battling your inner demons, which I promise to stand by you and help you with. After all, he who controls himself while angry is truly powerful. Like Dad says, one day he and your family will be so proud of you."

He held her close to him and embraced her with his arm and his chin, he smelt the scent of jasmine and lily from her brunette hair.

"Promise me, something though," Marcena said.

"You name it."

"Don't give up on love, happiness and all good things. Keep your intentions pure."

Gallardo chuckled. "Of course, how could I not when you're around?"

"Oh, by the way," Marcena pulled back. "I feel really bad for slapping you, I'm so sorry. Forgive me?"

" _The sweetness of my lady's kiss, by far outweighs the harshness of her sting,_ " Gallardo recited. " _To her I owe my heart and bliss, to her I pledge myself - a so pure thing!"_

Marcena grinned at him with surprise and intrigue, her eyes lighting up the dimples on her rosy cheeks.

Before, Gallardo could stop himself, his eyes were gazing into hers, as both of their breathing became shallower. He thought silently: _"Oh, Marcena."_

He held her tender chin in his trembling hand, he moved in as the melody of the birds sang him on, he felt her warm breath, he smelt the strawberry jam that she'd just eaten, he was a centimetre from her lips as his stomach did somersaults. Her eyelids closed around her milk chocolatey brown pupils; Gallardo closed his and let his instincts take over.

"Hey guys!" Ron said, appearing at the door. "Fleur says that breakfast's ready!" He paused and looked at them both. Gallardo shot him a glare; Hermione appeared from behind him and elbowed him. Gallardo looked back to see Marcena blushing like she would faint, as Ron recovered and said: "Oh!" before disappearing back downstairs.

* * *

_16th March 1999_

The next few days in Shell Cottage made the companions feel at home, they could sleep in proper beds and were not obliged to cast protective spells. Mr Ollivander was moving to Ron's Aunt's house, where there was more space.

Gallardo began training in and giving the others lessons in _Fursan_ or _Tariqal Fursan_ , meaning "the Way of the Knights", it was a Andalusian martial art founded by the Moors _._ Gallardo's ancestors had been protected by the Moors from a brutal tyrant, so in return they used what they had learned to help them escape from the forces of Isabella and Ferdinand. Even today, the two groups came together every now and then to express gratitude for fighting and dying alongside one another.

"Come on Hermione!" Gallardo encouraged. "You can do it!"

"It's not exactly easy!" she said, trying to aim a straight and strong side kick to where Ron was standing a few seconds ago.

"The key is balance and attitude," Gallardo supported her as she leant back on her non-kicking leg. "It's OK, take it slowly, one step at a time," he glanced towards Marcena, she caught his eye as Luna sparred a kick at her. "Help each other out and you'll be great in no time."

The garden of Shell Cottage ringed around them, the open space provided them with an excellent venue to train.

"I don't get it," Veera said from the side. "I'm a witch, why do I need to use a Muggle martial art?"

"Well, in case you lose your wand, in case you need to build up your strength," he replied. "Eighty percent of your magic comes from the mind and heart, you know, trust me you might enjoy it.

"Here," he motioned to a point just above his wrist. "If you squeeze that then you can really cause your opponent pain and make them let go of you. Try it."

Veera reluctantly grabbed and squeezed with difficulty.

"Use both hands," Gallardo suggested. She pressed and his pressure point before he finally tapped his arm. "Great, you've done it!"

"Dean tells me you managed to defeat Fenrir Greyback, is that true?" Veera asked.

"Yes, we duelled," he nodded.

"You had him, why didn't you kill him?" she whispered.

Gallardo sighed. "When you fight, you fight to defend and to protect, you fight with honour, discipline and control and with the right reasons. You should never fight to destroy or maim for the sake of it."

"But don't you wish you had? I mean he would be one man down..." Veera leaned in.

"No," Gallardo said abruptly before stepping towards Dean. "Sometimes these things turn out for the best. Dean, my man, let's give these lot a demonstration. Aim a kick at me, please!"

* * *

The four companions sat themselves in the bedroom with Griphook resting on an arm chair. He kept drumming his fingers in a deathly way. "Harry Potter, I have decided to help you," he said simply.

"That's great!" Harry beamed cheerfully.

"In return for payment." the room fell silent.

"OK, I have gold," Harry suggested.

"No, I have gold. I want the sword of Godric Gryffindor!" Griphook grinned.

The companions looked at each other in complete disbelief.

"I'm sorry, you can't have the sword," Harry shook his head.

"Then, we have a problem," Griphook said. "I want the sword."

"I bet are plenty of other things in the Lestrange vault," Ron suggested.

"I am not interested in thieving something that is not mine!" he roared. "I will be committing high treachery for you!"

"But the sword is ours!" Ron protested. "It belonged to Gryffindor and we are Gryffindors!"

"And before it was his who did it belong to?" Griphook challenged.

"No one's, it was made for him!" Ron replied.

"Wizarding arrogance!" taunted Griphook. "It belonged to Ragnuk the First, it was taken by him by Godric Gryffindor! The sword is the price of my hire, take it or leave it!" There was a long uncomfortable pause in the room.

"Griphook, we need to discuss this, if we may," Gallardo said, trying to sound commanding. The goblin nodded. The friends rose and headed downstairs; they needed Griphook's help to break into Gringotts to find the Horcrux, without which Voldemort could not be defeated. But without the sword they could not destroy the Horcruxes.

"He's having a laugh!" Ron grunted. "We can't give him the sword! Can we?"

"Is it true?" Harry asked Hermione. "Did Gryffindor really take the sword?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Wizarding history doesn't normally highlight these things, but as far as I know there's little evidence it did happen."

"It can't have," Gallardo said. "The sword has his name engraved on it, whoever made it did it for him." He strode to one of the back windows of the house; Fleur, Marcena and Luna were having tea in the porch. Marcena and Luna waved at him; he nodded back.

"More importantly," Harry was saying. "What are we going to do?"

"We could switch the swords," Ron suggested.

"But he'll know, he's a goblin!" Hermione pointed out.

"We could dash before he realises."

Hermione was not impressed. "That's despicable! Ask for his help and then double-cross him?"

"All right, it was just a suggestion," Ron flushed. "What would you suggest?"

"We could give him something equally valuable," she said.

"Great!" Ron taunted. "We'll just give him one of our other goblin made swords, shall we?"

"Not helping," Gallardo muttered. "We could tell him about how much honour he'll get amongst wizards for playing a vital role in defeating the Dark Lord."

"Yes, and I can promise him the sword," Harry beamed. "I just won't tell him that it'll be after we've finished the Horcruxes!"

"Genius!" Ron grinned.

"But that could be years," Hermione interjected.

"I know," Harry admitted. "But he needn't. I wouldn't be lying, I would make sure he gets it."

"I don't like it much," Hermione said disapprovingly.

"Nor do I much, but what else can we do?"

"I'm with Harry on this one," Gallardo said. "We promise him the sword and a part in bringing down the Dark Lord."

They returned to the room upstairs with Hermione looking down at the floor as they spoke to Griphook. As Harry made the deal and shook hands with Griphook, Gallardo looked at Hermione.

 _[Hermione, we need you to pull yourself together]_ he communicated. _[The mission depends on it!]_

Hermione nodded. They got to work, but Gallardo paused Griphook for a while.

"Griphook, I want you to understand that we really appreciate what you're doing for us. I want you to know that because of your help, you will play a part in bringing down the Dark Regime, you are helping in making sure that wizards, witches, goblins and all other creatures can walk the streets without being afraid of him."

"Very good, Master Eagle," replied the goblin. "I understand."

They realised that their Polyjuice Potion supply was running out, only one of them could transform. Gallardo was easily able to help himself by using an old black hooded cloak of his.

"I am Aratagar, the Highland Monk!" he said in his best Scottish accent. "I cannot lower my hood, because anyone who asks a Highland Monk to do so, will be cursed most severely. He will always be haunted by his guilt and his inner demons, every night, for the rest of his miserable life!"

"Calm down, mate!" Ron laughed jovially.

However, as the hours went by Gallardo felt distracted, almost uninterested in what was going on, so he had to excuse himself and head to the cliff side. It was almost as if something else was calling to him, leading him away from the others. He seated himself on the rock and closed his eyes, trying to meditate to the sound of his beating heart, he strove to clear his mind.

* * *

_20th March 1999_

For the next few days, he still felt the same way, as his friends locked themselves up to scheme and while the whole house looked at them suspiciously during meal times, he definitely felt burdened like he could not breath. He felt like an air serpent was circling the skies, waiting for the right moment to strike. He left the house and retreated to his meditation spot, he closed his eyes.

_Harry was bound to a marble gravestone in a lone and dark cemetery, he cried out in pain as a short figure approached him._

" _Blood... of the enemy... forcibly... taken..." the man panted as he held a blood stained dagger in his left hand. His right hand was absent, with only a gory stump replacing it. He raised the dagger and gave Harry's arm a mighty stab, causing the prisoner to scream out in pain. "You will... resurrect your foe!"_

"Gallardo?" a voice called.

He gasped and exhaled out, snapping his eyes open. His air pipe seemed construed and he began coughing violently. Marcena patted him on the back and raised the other hand to his forehead.

"You feel heated," she said.

"I need water..." said Gallardo. He rose and headed down the cliff onto the pebble beach, he jogged to the sea that marched to and fro. The seagulls blew their horns as his trachea wheezed and struggled. He scooped some of the cool and regenerating water, the salt crystals ran down his face putting out the outer fire and unease.

The sun and the blue sky smiled down at the couple kneeling by the edge of the roaring sea.

"That better?" Marcena whispered, yet Gallardo heard her over the envious noise.

"Much better, thanks," he smiled.

"How was the meditation?" she asked.

"It was fine, I just... you know had a vision..." he answered vaguely.

"What vision?"

"The day Riddle came back, Wormtail took Harry's blood..." Gallardo croaked.

After a laboured pause, Marcena placed her hand on his shoulder. "He's fine, he's OK now. I was just chatting to him a while ago."

"Yeah," Gallardo nodded shyly. "Yeah, he is." A sudden candle flared within him. He picked up a white marble pebble and threw it up before catching it. He felt the moist surface in the palm of his hand and raised his wand. Light red jets of fire carved into the stone, shrinking it to an oval the size of his thumb nail. There were black markings on the stone revealing the letters "M" and "S". With a dab of his wand, a string protruded from the marble stone, as Marcena grinned in fascination.

"Happy birthday," he smiled.

"OK... thanks, it's not my birthday, though," she giggled sweetly. "But, thanks. That's really really sweet of you."

"I know, it's just that after all that was going on, I didn't get you anything for yours. I know it's been about seven months and a year late. Well, actually, a year, seven months and another seven months," Gallardo gestured, talking fast. "But better late than never." He placed the white marble necklace over her head, he slipped it under her loose hair. He stood back to admire his handiwork, but more importantly the girl whom it was made for. The sea, the pebble beach and the crystal clear sky looked so mundane compared to Marcena wearing her pink and blue floral tunic, swaying in the breeze, and dark bloomers.

"You're beautiful, you know that," he said, stroking her smooth hair. His heart pounded as he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead; she embraced him, this made him feel warm as the wind grew fiercer. He slowly caressed his lips down to her nose; he could see the fading scars that Greyback and the Snatchers had given her, yet he did not care. He closed his eyes and kissed them gently and he then felt her smile embracing his, and then he was beaming so vibrantly inside that he did not want to let go, ever.

But the rain, that had just started pouring, had other plans as the clouds coughed jealously.

"OK, back to the house!" Gallardo laughed, as he curled his jacket over them both and held her towards him with his left arm. His diaphragm twitched and tingled next to hers, as he felt her heart echoing quickly, yet melodiously and serenely next to his.

A man sheltered a girl with his jacket, as they broke into a jog, they grinned and simpered warmly and enthusiastically as they made their way back towards Shell Cottage. The silky and moist sand left two pairs of footprints, side by side to each other. A trail of the pair emigrated down to the edge of the sea, and the same trail strode away. No amount of rain, wind, water or any other weather could undo the fact that these two had walked the beach, side by side.

* * *

As soon as Gallardo reached inside the house he brushed the residue of the rain off his black hair and rushed to find Harry, who was in the kitchen, boiling a cup of tea. The two nodded to each other; Gallardo sighed deeply and looked into Harry's eyes. He felt exasperated like he needed to tell something.

"Hey, are you all right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Gallardo replied, after a pause. "Listen, you know what we've been doing, how secret is it supposed to be?" There was a moment of silence when Harry checked to see that they weren't being listened in on.

"What have you done?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Look, I kind of told Marcena about Horcruxes and how I'm supposed to defeat Diablus," Gallardo breathed heavily.

"Man, why?" Harry demanded.

"She caught me off guard!" Gallardo said. "I didn't tell her about what we're planning, though!" But Harry shook his head.

"Gallardo, there's a _reason_ why we keep all of this a secret!" Harry hissed. "We have a mission! Our mission! We can't tell anyone, especially not _her_!"

Gallardo stared at him surprised. "You think she's dishonest?" He started to pace around. "Or untrustworthy? Because I can tell you-!"

"No, no! Of course not!" Harry explained. "But you know her, she'll want to know more and get involved. Do you really want her in the crossfire? Because I certainly wouldn't wish that on Ginny!"

There was silence.

"All I'm saying is, be really careful what you tell others," Harry sighed. "And you can always talk to us about any worries or anxieties you might be having, you know that right?"

Gallardo nodded.

"OK, and please don't lose track of why we're doing what we do."

"I haven't," Gallardo replied.

"Good," Harry smiled.

Gallardo took a deep breath and decided to trust his first instinct that he wasn't taking a long shot. "Harry, I need you to tell me what happened, exactly as it did, on the day that Riddle returned. I think that I have some unfinished business to take care of!"


	6. Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gallardo and Marcena travel back in time to complete the cycle of destiny, on that fateful day when Voldemort and Diablus were reborn.

_18th April 1999_

Half of Gallardo scolded himself as he waited with his cup of tea, in the kitchen. It was just before dawn, before the first rays of light descended. He wasn't sure when exactly he decided that he was going to do what he was about to do. He thought back to the time when he was helping Bill do gardening.

_They were digging a hole in the centre of the garden. The cool breeze complimented the sun as the two men dug arduously yet with laughter._

" _So basically," Gallardo said hoeing a yellow weed plant. "We're digging this manually so that when we plant the seed it's going to turn into a tree with a cabin on it?"_

" _Pretty much, yeah!" Bill replied, lifting the green seed which was the shape of a dragon egg. "I hope I'm not wearing you down too much from what you four are planning with Griphook."_

_There was a moment silence; Gallardo's heart skipped a beat. How much did Bill know? He looked at Bill, who didn't seem angry at all. "No, it's all right, thanks Bill."_

_Bill just nodded. "Gallardo, I need to know what you're planning so I can help you."_

_Gallardo knew that they had all agreed to keep it quiet, he just took a deep breath and smiled. "Just a job that Dumbledore left us. Look Bill, you've provided us with food and shelter, that's helped us more than many things. Don't worry, we won't ever put you or anyone here in danger."_

_Bill nodded again. "I understand that you're reluctant to tell us everything because you want to protect us. But put in this way." Bill put his hand on Gallardo's shoulder. "If I start keeping major secrets from Fleur, even though I'm trying to protect her, she may feel cold shouldered and isolated, she might feel like I would forsake her and I wouldn't want that."_

_Gallardo shuddered. "Marcena..." he muttered._

" _What I'm trying to say is that even in the middle of this war, you need balance. But sooner or later you're going to have to make the difficult choice between principle and practicality, between love or freedom, between what you say or promise and what you're prepared to deliver, yes?" he gave him a twinkle._

_Gallardo's stomach grimaced, he knew that he'd have to make a choice. Dumbledore's words told him that "True friends and allies... put bonds given freely before pleasure of the loin." But what he had was not "pleasure of the loin," such a notion felt highly insulting, not only because nothing of that sort had happened but also because she meant so much more to him. He felt uncomfortable about that choice, but his meditation had taught him something: to contemplate the future, but not at the expense of the moment. He would eventually make that decision but not now. He would focus on the recurring dream._

Harry had told him four years ago about something remarkable that had happened on the day that Voldemort returned, at first Gallardo felt gob smacked at what Harry had said, but he knew that he wouldn't lie. Gallardo had meditated for many days trying to get a sense of direction; he could wait or he could embrace the moment. He told his friends what he intended to do; Harry lauded him for the first part, he felt that now was the time, but the for the second part he thought Gallardo was bonkers. However, Gallardo assured him that this was a simple and quick operation, he would keep everything under control.

"Hey," Marcena chimed, entering the kitchen, jerking Gallardo back to the present.

"Hey, " he answered, rising and pulling out a chair. "Sleep well?"

"As much as I could," Marcena grinned. "So, what's going to happen exactly?"

"Breakie?" Gallardo motioned to the table. "Do you like fried eggs?" She nodded and smiled. She looked really pretty, with her silky hair tied back, her purple cloak enveloped her navy tunic.

"What?" she giggled, as Gallardo realised that he was gazing like a goof. He quickly looked to the kettle to pour some tea. After a moment he settled down and faced her.

"OK," he began to explain. "Four years ago when Harry was tied to a marble gravestone, watching Riddle and Diablus return to life, he was made to duel him. Now apparently, _I_ intervened and duelled as his second. I used some bizarre duelling skills and I defeated Diablus."

"But you were at the Triwizard Tournament," Marcena said. "I saw you look over to me about a hundred times."

"Yes I wanted to make sure you were enjoying the Tournament!" he grinned. "But anyway, you're right I wasn't there."

"I'm confused."

"So was I," Gallardo nodded. "But then it started to make sense." He pulled out the silver fob watch and handed it to her. "Your dad used this watch to travel from the future. After a bit of meditation and thought it all started making sense. I'm supposed to go back in time and help Harry and possibly teach him some of the things he's taught me."

"Wow," Marcena nodded quietly. "But are you really ready?... I mean... this is Lord Diablus we're talking about... I-I..."

"I know," Gallardo replied, seeing the fear in her eyes, her hand was shaking slightly as she lowered her cup. "But I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I know that it has to be now."

Marcena nodded again. "So, what do I do," she asked, almost suspiciously, sitting back.

"I want you to," Gallardo looked into her eyes. "Come with me and be my voice of reason. There are some things I might want to do, but I can't. I can't kill or save certain people, however much I want to. You need to remind me of that." Marcena nodded. He lifted his bag and put it on the work top, before getting some gold out and pocketing it. "Just in case." He exhaled gazing out of the window, at the pregnant sky about to be due.

"You don't have to come with me," he said, quietly. "If you don't want to."

"But I do want to," she answered.

"Marcena, you need to know, I'm not taking you out for dinner!" he cried. "We could both die back in time!"

The colour from her normally pale face started to fade. "Oh," she murmured.

"I'll do what I can to protect you, though," Gallardo reassured. "Look..." He paced towards the fridge and lent against it. "I hate to sound commanding, but you need to promise me that you'll do as you're told, if you want to come."

"Yes, sir!" Marcena chuckled.

"I'm serious," Gallardo cracked a smile. "It's a straightforward mission, but you have to do as I say. If I tell you to 'run', 'hide', 'save yourself' or 'not interfere' you have to do exactly that. Do you understand, Marcena?"

"OK," she nodded and rose. "So when are we going? Do we tell Bill and Fleur?"

"No, what we'll do is take a note of the date," Gallardo pulled out a piece of paper and began to scribble with a Biro. "It's the 18th of April 1999." He looked up, slightly frowning. "Crap, it's Mary's seventeenth soon." He shook his head, he knew that he couldn't get in contact with his family as easily as he wanted to. The establishment would find a way to hold them under surveillance.

"I could knit her something," Marcena suggested. "We could give it to her whenever we see her, how's that?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "But that could be a _very_ long time, though!" he chuckled. "Anyway, we need to make our way to Little Hangleton, 24th June 1995. Bring some extra clothes, just in case we're a day or two off."

"Done," Marcena said, pointing to her enchanted black handbag. She pulled out a green wand from her pocket. "Mr Ollivander has been kind enough to forge me a new wand- alder wood and delphinus milk tooth, 9 inches!"

Gallardo nodded to her and grinned. "It's fantastic!" He rose and pulled a grey and black trench coat with a hood over his green shirt, which was tucked inside some navy chinos. He held out his arm for her to hold. "Marcena Sempatho, will you come on a hopefully simple and quick but still a little risky mission with me?"

"It's a date!" she giggled and wrapped her arm around his. Both started giggling and Gallardo had to quieten her. "Sssshhhhh! You'll wake the others up!" he whispered, struggling to hold back laughter.

They exited the house and strode into the cool and breezy wind. The purple sky enveloped the heavens like a velvet blanket. Small gaps allowed a scintilla of light red to emit from the bottom of the horizon. The couple began moving towards the light, away from their house and into the sunrise that was to be born. Gallardo felt in his heart that something else would also come into this world, something strong, something that makes one tremble, laugh and cry at the same time. His heart thudded as he knew what lay ahead, his self-doubt sparred with his self-belief, demanding that he surrender and that he had no idea what he was doing. Yet his self-belief remained as strong as his head, just like it had when he'd defeated Greyback. The girl next to him allowed the aura of calmness to remain and be rooted firmly in his bones.

"Do you know what?" Marcena said, suddenly. "I'm actually quite excited. We could be like two great time travellers!"

"Yeah, maybe," Gallardo said. "But I don't plan on warping to another time without warning, rest assured."

Marcena smiled, slightly surprised. "You better not," she remarked, in a feisty way. "We should find ourselves a police box!"

"So, you can say _'oh my God, it's bigger on the inside'?"_ he joked, rolling his eyes, but then sighed. "There's only one Marcena Sempatho, though," he said quietly.

Marcena sensed the sudden change in his voice, but didn't press him further, instead she just rested her head on his shoulder and squeezed his arm tighter for a second.

They arrived on a raised hill. The breeze swayed gently and gracefully back to Shell Cottage, which they could see in the horizon, they silently bid farewell to it.

"Why have we come here?" Marcena enquired.

"Ah," Gallardo replied, taking the silver fob watch out. "When we time travel, we open a gateway or portal, into time and space. If anyone latches on they can come with us, so to be on the safe side we need..." he slowed down and smiled coyly. "A margin of... distance." He held up the watch. "Are you ready?"

Marcena nodded, slightly shaky.

"Hold my hand, don't let go!" Gallardo commanded gently. They linked hands. Gallardo shouted: "24th June 1995, Little Hangleton!"

A flash of light and a feeling of queasiness overcame them, for just a split second. They were speeding through a dark blue ocean, but they felt so dry. The ground thudded at their feet; Gallardo jerked and tensed to keep himself on his feet, before holding out a hand for Marcena.

"You all right?" he knelt down.

"I'm fine," she nodded, getting up and dusting some earth off her dark jeans. "So, is this the lion's den?"

They were outside a village; an iron arc with a sign reading: " _Welcome to Little Hangleton"_ in black paint, was erected next to them.

"I suppose so," Gallardo said. The minute they entered, the overgrown bushes, the almost deserted streets and deserted people went on by. The groggy feeling charged into him, causing him to nauseate.

_He yelled in pain, as the crackling fire whip struck him down, next to Glenn's unconscious body. His wand was a few metres away, but the pain anchored him to the ground._

" _Bow down, Eagle!" rasped the tyrant figure. "You can make no difference!" A feeling of heaviness and hostility rounded him. A sudden cry of a bird jolted some energy in his muscles._

"Gallardo!" Marcena cried, shaking him as he leant against a small closed kiosk. His skin flared up, like a volcanic eruption, as he panted and coughed. Marcena cushioned his forehead with a wet towel that she produced from her handbag. "You're heating up, are you okay?" she said, with a panicked look.

The moisture quenched the heat and he nodded, holding her hand to his lips. "I'm fine," he smiled, breathing heavily. A couple of on lookers stared at them, but they resumed their routine when Marcena shot them a disappointed look.

"We need to move," Gallardo beckoned her to walk forwards. They quickened their pace down an overgrown hill, towards what seemed like a pub or inn, which was made of a wooden roof and concrete walls. The Inn sign read: The Hanged Man.

"Funny name for an Inn!" Gallardo chuckled. "Let's go in."

Marcena hesitated, but followed him inside the Inn, which was filled with rowdy chatter and the smell of rum. A pianist at the back was playing Auld Lang Syne, which was very catchy and nostalgic.

"I'm getting a drink," Gallardo declared. "Do you want anything?"

Marcena shook her head. "I don't... I'll just have hot chocolate, please. Gallardo, you shouldn't drink, considering what you're about to do!"

Gallardo saw the distant river in her eyes; he looked down, with a slight shame coming over him. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded. "Two hot chocolates then, eh?"

Marcena nodded, slightly grimly. "I'll save us a seat."

Gallardo walked over to the counter, he had some auxiliary sterling with him, just in case. After buying their drinks, he turned back to see a fairly tall blond guy near his sweetheart.

"All right, love?" the guy said, posing. "Nice dress, do you know where it would be better?"

"Erm...thanks?" Marcena said awkwardly.

Gallardo set the hot chocolate down and patted the man on his back, making it strong yet socially acceptable. "A man of your age shouldn't be so fascinated by ladies' clothing."

The cockiness in the man vanished and he started looking sheepish. "Oh, mate... is this your...?"

"Yes," Gallardo answered, through a smile. "She is. Mate." The man nodded and side-stepped away, into the chatter of the Inn.

Marcena let out a nervous giggle. "For a minute, I thought things would get really heated!"

"So did I," he replied. "I can't have him snooping around my girl, can I?" He sat down and passed her a hot chocolate, which steamed into the warm air.

"No, I suppose not. Listen," she changed her tone to a quiet and concerned one. "If, for whatever reason, you don't feel ready, Gallardo... please don't!"

"I know, but I am ready!" he declared. "It has to be now. It just feels like now is the best time."

Marcena just looked at him before nodding sadly. "OK," she whispered.

"Hey!" he assured. "It's OK, I'll be fine." He reached out and held her hand, making her smile and nod again.

"How long until...?" Marcena began.

"Sometime."

"OK, so what now? And how are we going to do this?"

Gallardo sipped his hot drink. "Well, it all happened in the graveyard. So we'll go and wait there, until Harry is asked to duel, and then I step in and hopefully save both our backsides!"

They both grinned. Marcena even started laughing. "Won't his followers not know that we're intruding?"

"Good you ask, Marcena," Gallardo said, clicking his fingers. "Perception filter charms."

"What's that?"

Gallardo took out his wand and waved it at him, before moving diagonally opposite to Marcena. He looked back to see her blinking violently and clearly getting a migraine. He silently berated himself, before moving back to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's OK." He poured her some water from a jug. She sipped it, before letting her inquisitive expression come back.

"What was that?" she asked. "It felt like... I knew you were there but I didn't think it was important!"

"Perception filter," Gallardo answered, simply. "Allows the user to blend in, unnoticed, so long as they don't draw attention to themselves or they don't get caught applying it." He grinned like a fifteen year old. "Cool, isn't it?"

Marcena nodded. "And that's how we're going to blend in unnoticed? Awesome!"

Another couple staggered out of the Inn, jovially laughing and screaming. Marcena looked at them and cracked a slight smile.

"We have to move," Gallardo said, rising. Marcena did the same, as they linked hands and quickened their pace out of the Inn. The chatter began to fade into the silence of the dead village. Dusk had seemed to come early for the June day; the greyness of the clouds swarmed and circled the village. The couple could make out the road, which descended into a wide and fortified graveyard, with an iron gate, keeping the lost souls at bay.

Gallardo put the charm on Marcena and himself, "Cast your hood," he whispered. They both concealed themselves. A murder of crows squawked and screamed into the air, as a flash of light was seen. Two figures appeared in the distance.

The couple watched on, as the the two figures, one in yellow and the other in red, drew their wands.

Marcena drew her wand as a short man approached the men in yellow and red- Gallardo pulled back her hand.

"We can't!" he whispered.

"Why?"

"Because, it could upset so much!" Gallardo replied, holding her shoulders. "It could cause something so much worse to happen!" He let her go and stepped back.

A sudden scream of pain came from the guy in red, which they could see was Harry. The short man, Wormtail, carried what looked like a small baby in his arm.

" _Kill the spare!"_ a voice hissed.

"Look away, Marcena, look away!" Gallardo hissed. He embraced her firmly yet gently and turned her away from what was about to happen. He pressed his lips to the side of her head; she hugged him back tightly as he watched the abomination.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_ Wormtail yelled. It took one flash for Cedric Diggory fall to his death. The tremors spread for many miles, as Harry lay writhing in pain and shock. Gallardo began to shake, his insides convulsed and somersaulted. He breathed heavily, as his arms felt Marcena trembling; she knew what had happened, as his moistened eyes saw a dead man, an injured man and a short man; Wormtail grabbed Harry and began tying him to a graves stone.

"Oh, my God," Marcena cried. "I don't believe it." She began to breathe hard, as she looked down and began composing herself. Cedric had been her housemate, and someone that she had always looked up to and believed in, like the older brother she never had. She had been one of the first to believe Harry and Dumbledore openly about Voldemort returning.

A cauldron had now appeared in the middle of the graveyard, the red flames danced violently, the bubbles squirmed and the cauldron burnt. Wormtail took a bone and dropped it in, the bubbles consumed the bone; Gallardo cringed and ended up looking the other way.

"What's he doing?" Marcena enquired.

"He's doing a ritual- a bone from Riddle senior, his own hand..."

Wormtail screamed in pain, as his hand dropped into the cauldron.

"He's going to cut Harry isn't he?" Marcena exclaimed quietly.

Gallardo nodded, with sadness in his eyes.

"Can't we...?" Marcena began. Harry cried out as Wormtail cut into his arm, it rang through the graveyard, silencing all those who dared to think.

Gallardo shook his head. "Not until it's the right time."

"Then tell me something..." Marcena said, letting a tear come down her cheek. Gallardo gently wiped it and wrapped his arms around her once more.

"If w-we can't..." she stammered. "Even help our friend, yet... then tell me what's happening. What's the story of V-voldemort... and D-diablus..."

Gallardo sighed and looked on, the baby-like figure, who had been dropped into the cauldron was joined by the flames- they were baptising him.

A flash of light erupted from the cauldron, Wormtail added a phial full of blood to the mixture, as Harry grimaced.

The sky looked as if it wanted to descend and crush what was happening; two figures appeared right next to the cauldron. The one with white-grey scaly skin, was robed up by Wormtail. The other figure was taller, with reddened skin; he wore a black and red cloak, a horned helmet and a brown sleeveless armour.

Lord Voldemort stretched and groaned, before turning to Diablus.

"My Lord Diablus," he rasped.

"My Lord Voldemort," Diablus said, bowing. "Happy to be of service, sir!" The bellow even seemed to startle Voldemort.

"Shall we?" Voldemort said, ignoring Wormtail's cries, as he lay on the ground, clutching his bloodied stump.

Voldemort and Diablus seized each other by the elbow and glared at one another.

" _I swear to thee!"_ Diablus began.

" _I pledge myself to thee!"_ Voldemort continued.

" _I bind myself to thee!"_

" _To never harm thee!"_

" _I swear on my blood, my mind and my sanity!"_

" _And thine!"_ The chanting was growing louder and louder, an invisible ball of fire seemed to be baptising the two.

Marcena began to shudder, "I feel really bad about watching this..."

"So do I..."

Voldemort callously pushed the Dark Mark tattoo on Wormtail's arm. "Now let's see if anyone can dare face their Master!"

Suddenly, there was a ripple of cracking sounds. Dozens of figures in dark clothing, with their faces covered by silver masks, appeared and swarmed towards the Voldemort. They seemed not to notice Gallardo, who just stood there shielding Marcena in his arms. The Death Eaters halted a few paces away from the two dark wizards and dared not approach any further.

Voldemort began scolding his followers for not answering to him, not looking for him earlier. Some of them begged for forgiveness, but he did not want to forgive until they had made up for their lost service.

"How did he come back?" Marcena whispered.

"Well... he had a little help from Wormtail, he knew he had to use flesh from his servant, blood from Harry and the bone from his father..." Gallardo replied. "Besides, he had his soul broken into pieces by making Horcruxes."

Voldemort was explaining to his Death Eaters how he came back, how he used Bertha Jorkins to find out where the Triwizard Tournament will be held. His fear of death is what stopped him from actually dying and allowed him to live between life and death. This made him more and more vengeful, which is what allowed him to kill his father and grandparents.

"You may wonder who this is," Voldemort said, as if telling a folk story. "This is Lord Diablus, enemy of Gryffindor, Marteslon, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Ally of Salazar Slytherin and a dark wizard who can show us much of the most ancient magic!"

"This alliance between me and your Master, is not something that was decided on emotion or warmth. It is a natural alliance, one that we've made a Blood Bond for," Diablus informed. "We will work closely to mould this world as we see fit... Together!"

For a second, he seemed to stare at Gallardo, who froze, but then he turned towards Voldemort once more.

Marcena reached out her hand, she squeezed it gently but tightly. "Hey, it's OK. You can do this!" she smiled encouragingly. "This is destiny!"

Gallardo inhaled and exhaled with energy and confidence, like he had done when duelling Greyback.

"And now!" Voldemort declared. "I am going to show you, Harry, that it was sheer luck that allowed you to beat me. What's more is that your mother isn't here to die for you! Untie him Wormtail and give him his wand."

Wormtail quickly untied Harry, who was covered in bruises and cuts- his red and black shirt was torn, revealing lesions in his skin. He quickly thrust his wand into Harry's hand.

"I'm going in!" Gallardo said. He started to move but Marcena grabbed his arm, he turned and looked at her milk chocolate eyes, holding the look of fear, concern and hope at the same time.

"Be careful," she croaked. She kissed him on his mouth, he returned it twice, full of confidence and determination. This was destiny! He marched proudly towards where the Death Eaters were watching their blood sport, he had the hood of his grey-black trench coat over his head.

"You've been taught how to duel?" Voldemort asked Harry. "Good!" he said without waiting for an answer. "First, we bow!" he bowed, without taking his eyes off Harry.

Harry remained still, he swallowed with fear.

"Come on, Harry, the niceties must be observed. Bow to death!"

 _[Don't play his game, don't give him the satisfaction!]_ Gallardo communicated.

"I said 'bow'!" Voldemort said, causing Harry to stoop. "Good, and now we duel! _Crucio!_ "

Harry keeled over in pain and agony, visibly close to tears. Gallardo drew his wand but held back- not yet.

"Harry Potter, shall we have a break, you wouldn't want me to do that again would you?" Voldemort gloated.

There was no answer.

"Answer me!" ordered Voldemort, swishing his wand and casting an Imperius curse on him. "Answer me! You wouldn't want me to do that again will you answer me! Just say no!"

Harry looked as if he was in a trance.

 _[Stay strong Harry!]_ Marcena yelled silently.

 _[Harry, you are a lot stronger than they think, than he thinks. Hold your ground!]_ Gallardo implored.

"I WON'T!" Harry cried out, with unbelievable valour.

"You won't say 'no'?" Voldemort tutted. "Well, I am rather disappointed. Very well, let's continue with the duel. _Cru-!"_

Gallardo was ready for this. He raised his wand and said: _"Expelliarmus!"_

Voldemort's wand jumped out from his hand and landed neatly in Gallardo's left. A Death Eater tried to intervene, but Gallardo locked his wand and Voldemort's against the Death Eater's, the blue and red cores swamped and flooded the Death Eater, sending him down. The graveyard froze in terror.

"I demand to know!" Voldemort began. " Who are you?!"

Gallardo faced him. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Riddle! Can't you see that our friend has come along way, he needs some time to recuperate." He looked through his hood at Harry, who was on his knees, panting, exasperated and surprised.

"WHO- ARE- YOU!" Voldemort roared.

Gallardo raised a hand to his hood and started to lower it. "My name is Gallardo Clive Horatio Eagle!" He turned to see Harry completely baffled. "And we are going to give you a day that will haunt you for the rest of your lives!"

"We?" Diablus said, raising an eyebrow.

"That's right," Gallardo smiled, with confidence, even though his heart was racing. "Give us a few minutes and we'll give you a proper duel. Doubles. You and Diablus against us two!"

Voldemort looked towards Diablus, furiously and angrily. Harry also gave Gallardo a look that said: "I want to die!" Gallardo simply threw back Voldemort's wand, who caught it swiftly and jealously.

"Harry, I want you to relax and close your eyes," Gallardo crooned.

"Who are you? And what're you doing here?" Harry said, quickly. "You're meant to be at the Tourn-"

"Harry, I'm from the future," Gallardo answered. "We don't have much time, just relax and feel calm... and serene." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and thought hard about healing, a surge of regenerating energy rushed into Harry, causing a soulful smile to appear on his face. Gallardo took his hand off. "That better?"

"Yeah."

Gallardo helped him up and patted his shoulder. "Now we're going to duel, you and me, against Voldemort and Diablus."

"What? Are you crazy?" Harry hissed. "I don't know about you but I'm not ready to beat him!"

"Hey, it'll be fine!" Gallardo implored. "We need to have faith in ourselves, I'll cover you; remember we have magic that they can't understand! A good duellist stands his ground, finds a weakness and uses it to his advantage!"

Harry cracked a smile and nodded.

"Now here's what I think we should do," Gallardo said, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Clear you mind. Clear your mind and say _'Enduro'_ to whatever he says. You'll lock the wands together and we'll take it on from there."

"Well, are you ready?" Diablus challenged. "Because you need to think very carefully about this!"

Somewhere in the distance, a phoenix cried out. Harry and Gallardo turned to face Voldemort and Diablus, side by side. For a split second, the look of fear crept upon both their faces, like their reckoning had come, but it quickly was replaced by their jeering smirks.

"Very well," Voldemort's lips began to curl. "First we bow." He and Diablus bowed.

"Always look them in the eye," Gallardo whispered, as he and Harry made a slight, but defiant bow, whilst pinning their opponents with their gaze.

" _Crucio!"_ the two dark wizards roared, without warning.

But Gallardo and Harry were ready. _"Enduro!"_ they both bellowed. Voldemort and Diablus' blood red core colours locked on with Harry's yellow and Gallardo's blue, respectively.

A sudden weight fell on both of their arms, a weight that seemed to prick and heat the hairs on their skin.

"Combine them!" Gallardo ordered. "Clear your head, we can beat them!" Both thrust their wand closer to each other, the blue and yellow core united, a mighty charge from their shoulders sent both dark wizards stumbling backwards. Voldemort even fell; Diablus quickly regained his balance.

He circled his wand to create his signature: the fire whip! The red whip danced and flailed into the cold air, heating it up.

With one swish, it caught Harry sending him yelling out in pain. He was thrown down behind Tom Riddle Senior's gravestone.

Gallardo attempted to duck, but the momentum from the whip sent him sprawling on the ground, with smoke coming out of his right side. Again, the menacing whip came again skimming the side of his head. The scald taunted him with a stinging sensation that laughed and cried at the same time.

_Suddenly, he was wounded, tired and beaten; again by the eight pillars of stone._

_N_ _o!_ he thought, vehemently. The stones did not imprison him, he wouldn't let them.

He rolled out of the way, to avoid another swish from the crackling whip. It narrowly missed him, the leaves that would have been under him singed with the shock and terror of Diablus' whip.

Diablus pulled back his weapon for another strike. Gallardo did not focus on the Death Eaters cheering Diablus on, wanting him to finish him off. He was prepared.

" _Aqua Eructo!"_ he yelled. A jet of clear water jolted out of his wand, injecting Diablus with an energising blow. The water swarmed his adversary and scorched him. The fire whip vanished, but Diablus quickly recovered.

"Fool! You are no match for me!" he snarled. _"Simbaleon_!" Suddenly, a large brown maned lion shot out from his wand and saluted his master with a roar. "Kill him!" The mighty beast seemed to freeze all those around him as he broke into a jog towards Gallardo.

Gallardo aimed his wand and yelled: _"Ibexium!"_ A strong, powerful and agile grey mountain goat shot out from the wand; he galloped and charged at the lion with his two scimitar like horns.

He landed a swift blow onto the lion's jaw, which roared fiercely and just about missed a strike with the paw.

" _Simbaleon!"_ Gallardo muttered. The ibex turned into a gold maned lion and growled at Diablus's lion. At the same time, both charged at each other, dealing mutual vicious blows. Their grunting and roaring were the only sounds as everyone watched on in awe, and possibly fear.

Gallardo looked towards Harry, who was rising above the gravestone and oblivious to Voldemort raising his wand.

" _Avada-!"_ Voldemort's lips began to move.

 _Imperio!_ Gallardo roared, silently, he felt a tingle in his arm and some guilt. _[Harry, get down!]_

Harry ducked, narrowly escaping the green jet of light.

 _[Harry, when I say I want you to use Terra firma jinx on Voldemort, you hear me!]_ Gallardo transmitted. Part of him, laughed at the next bravado move that he was going to do, but it had worked in a similar way with Greyback.

Harry yelled, slightly confused but recognising his voice: "OK! Do what you have to!"

Gallardo inhaled, turned and focused himself behind Voldemort. _Crack!_

Everyone, except the lions (who were still goring each other) watched on in anticipation, as Gallardo Apparated behind Voldemort, and grabbed his chin with his left hand. With his right, he dealt a punch that collided with the temple. Even after such fighting, it felt stone cold. He struck again, as deep as he could into the right kidney, whilst grabbing the chin and pulling back.

"NOW!" Gallardo bellowed.

" _Terra firma!"_ shouted Harry. A golden trail of light came at Voldemort, who had managed to free one of his hands and punch Gallardo's face, sending him wincing. Voldermort's fury was blinding him, as he raised his wand, Harry's jinx caught him in the back and sent him bouldering into Gallardo, who managed to dodge.

Gallardo's lion was being thrown to the ground, being viciously chewed alive, his golden mane had turned red. Gallardo swished his wand; Diablus's lion was gnawing at nothing but dust. He too was worn, tired, wounded and limping.

"Kill him! Kill them both!" Diablus ordered. The lion, in agony made a few steps towards Gallardo, who looked to see his wand vibrating with a glow of blue-green, white and yellow.

The lion took a few more steps before stopping, as he looked at Gallardo's calm and collected, yet firmly aggressive face. _[Stay, relax, rest.]_ Gallardo breathed and clenched his fist, his heart pounded in harmony with the wand's vibrations.

Diablus swished his wand, reducing the lion to ashes. _"Avada Kedavra!"_ he exclaimed.

Gallardo merely pointed his wand and jolted a determined push with all his soul. The wand emitted the light, it charged through towards Diablus, it consumed his curse and kept on going.

Diablus raised his arm to use a shield charm. But the light cut through that. With a bang, three fingers and a wand soared like coins being tossed into the air. They came down, just as Gallardo pulled back the beam and aimed at Diablus abdomen, it sliced up, then down and stabbed right through before vanishing and sending him sprawling down.

Diablus roared in pain and exasperation. "Who... are... you?" he gasped, sitting up weakly.

Voldemort looked on in utter disbelief. Harry punched the air. Gallardo could sense Marcena jumping in delight. He retreated to where Harry was; his job was nearly done! The hairs on the back of his neck were erect as he turned to Voldemort.

"I think you and Riddle can finish this duel off on your own!" he addressed Harry, but made sure Voldemort could hear. Both looked at him as though he was bonkers.

"Why would you do that?" Voldemort said.

"Gallardo, are you mental?" Harry snarled. "He is going to kill me!"

"He'll _try_ and kill you, but believe me, he'll fail miserably!" Gallardo said, like an excited teenager. "Harry this is destiny, you're going to achieve so much today, just by disarming him! We have got the determination and will power, people like him don't." He sighed deeply. "I have faith in you, so have faith in yourself!"

"Thanks," Harry looked down. "You're a brilliant duellist, you know."

"I learnt from you," Gallardo smiled. "Or at least I will, now show him!"

Harry marched closer to Voldemort, who was fuming and paddling from side to side, he was bleeding from his mouth and nose.

"You realise that I will kill him, and then kill you!" Voldemort rasped.

"Well then I can face death," Harry whispered. "And I'll face it with courage."

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ screamed Voldemort.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ snapped Harry. Both spells collided and merged together, a white beam joined their wands together. This white cord convulsed and shook both of their muscles. A bead of energy appeared right into the centre of the cord. Voldemort grunted pushing that cord towards Harry, who yelled pushing it back.

"Come on, Harry!" Gallardo cheered. "You're a survivor! You can beat him!"

Harry grimaced and roared out his energy. The bead shifted slowly, gradually and progressively towards Voldemort's wand. The second it made contact, an enchanted spherical cage of glowing bars enclosed around Harry and Voldemort. The two were being lifted into the air.

"Orders, Master?" shouted some of the Death Eaters; who had remained where they were with their wands drawn, out of fear from their master.

"Do not interfere!" ordered Voldemort. "Kill the spare!"

Several Death Eaters raised their wands; before anything could be done a volley of water balloons charged down onto them; the explosions caused icy cold water to make them squeal.

Harry and Voldemort were slumped onto a space away from their original place.

Gallardo put a shield charm before himself and the Death Eaters, he rushed towards Harry. "Yes, yes, come one!"

Suddenly, a translucent head started emerging from Voldemort's wand.

 _[Keep hold, Harry!]_ Marcena called to him.

The head turned into a body, then a torso and then the legs, of Cedric Diggory.

"Well done, Harry!" his speech seemed distant and an echo. "There's more coming!" Sure enough, a man in his late fifties came out.

"So he was a wizard then," he said. "Killed me, that one did."

A witch appeared out of his wand again. "You hold on, Harry, you hold on, boy!"

"Bertha Jorkins," Gallardo muttered. "Sorry, for the pain he caused you."

Bertha blushed and grinned.

Another red haired woman now stood next to Harry, who swallowed, yet held his wand firm. "Hello... mother..." he managed to get out. She smiled and returned his tenderness. She seemed safe, and happy.

"There isn't much time," she said. "Your father wants to see you."

Sure enough, the spectre of a man with glasses stood next to Harry. "When you let go we'll only be able to hold him off for a few seconds. Get ready to run for the cup!"

"One more thing," Cedric requested. "Take my body back to my parents, will you?"

"Harry, listen, to me," Gallardo began. "You need to go and tell me whatever happened today, I'm going to need it." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I won't lie to you, but next year is going to be very tough. For you, for all of us. But you need to be patient." He smiled, and nodded before swallowing. "Stay true to yourself, and trust your friends, OK?"

Harry smiled back.

"Now go!" Gallardo commanded. "I'll cover you!" Harry let go of the chain, and legged it. The ghosts rallied and charged at Voldemort, who raised his arm to shield himself. Gallardo fired a few jinxes at the Death Eaters, knocking them down. Harry grabbed hold of Cedric's body and summoned the silver and soiled Triwizard Cup. With one grab and a flash, Harry had vanished. Voldemort stood panting, angry and horrified; Diablus lay on his side exhaling laboriously; and Gallardo stood there grinning, while half a platoon of Death Eaters armed themselves with their wands, waiting for the order.

Suddenly, his heart sank- he hadn't thought of this!

"KILL HIM!" roared Voldemort. He launched a curse at him; before Gallardo could react, he felt a tug back by someone more fragile and smaller than him, yet he dropped very easily. He felt her grab his hand, then _crack!_

He was gushing for air, as he landed a few hundred yards from where he was. As he fell flat on his back again, as the adrenaline anguished him, he could see the cone hats of the Death Eaters in the distance, scurrying trying to find their almost target.

"What would you do without me?" grinned Marcena.

Gallardo beamed and threw his arms around her. He felt her soft hair brush against his cheek, and her arms cushioned the spot where he had been struck with the fire whip, neutralising the burning. They were on a hill near a forest full of trees. A few swallows squawked melodiously as the sky appeared more bluer than before.

But their momentary happiness was short lived.

Through the gap in the trees, marched a group of men in blood red robes. There were about ten of them, in skull helmets and black eye masks, escorting a fair haired man, a blonde girl and a dark haired girl. They roughly pushed them forwards, while pointing their wands at them. One of the men threw down something on the floor and smirked at the prisoners, almost as if daring them to pick it up. The men had something tattooed on their uniform, something Gallardo recognised to his horror.

A cobra and a battle-axe inside a ball of flame.

"I recognise that insignia from somewhere," he whispered, shivering.

Marcena placed her hand on his shoulder; she felt his shiver as her voice started to break.

"Where?"

One of the men swished his wand, a long wooden pole began to turn in mid air and sparks came out, showing off the sharpening.

Gallardo watched in horror, as another of those men grabbed the blonde girl and pushed her down.

"Strip!" he ordered.

"No, please..." she begged. But her plea was answered by a sharp kick in the stomach. The man practically ripped her trousers off.

"Get your filthy hands-!" began the fair-haired man.

" _Crucio!"_ chanted the closest captor, causing the prisoner to scream in pain.

Gallardo turned away. "Look away," he turned her away. "We have to go," he said, abruptly. He turned to leave, but Marcena grabbed hold of his hand.

"Gallardo!" she hissed. "What are you doing? What's that symbol?"

"Look," Gallardo sighed. "Listen to me, that insignia is a sign of an evil warlord from the future."

The dark haired girl cried out, only to be slapped to silence, as her blonde friend had her shirt torn in two. Two of the men held her down on her front, as another moved the rotating pole towards her.

"Oh, God!" cried Marcena, quietly. "We have to help them!"

"No, we can't!" Gallardo said, hating himself. Marcena gave him a disgusted and surprised look.

"We can't meddle with the past!" he hissed. He grabbed hold of her, pulled her away and put his hand on her. "Listen to me, I know this sounds heartless. But we were here to do one thing, and one thing alone.

"We did that, we can't change what's supposed to happen today!"

"Gallardo, they're going to impale her!" Marcena began to cry and let a tear loose. "They will humiliate her and make her friends watch, they will degrade her as they put a sharp stick through her...

"What if that was me on the floor? Or your sister!"

"Marcena, listen to me," Gallardo beseeched. "I really hate what's happening. Believe you me I do! But these people were meant to die today, if we try and change that then it'll create something worse for everyone in the future!"

"So we just turn off our humanity?" Marcena lamented.

"We don't have a choice!" Gallardo said remorsefully.

Marcena shook her head. "Yes, we do. Today may not be their time."

"Marcena..."

The girl began a spell of shrill screaming.

"If you won't help them... then I will!" Marcena Sempatho, with the look of defiance in her face, stepped into the opening where the execution was happening, raised her wand and bellowed in a voice that shook everyone in the vicinity. _"IMPEDIMENTA!"_

A jet of light struck the two, who held down the blonde girl, and sent them flying back into another of their comrades.

The seven remaining soldiers drew their wands and sent a stunning spell that narrowly skimmed above her hair, erupting the tree behind her. She let out a gasp as they aimed their wand again.

" _Decimatium!"_ roared Gallardo with fury, blasting two of them and numbing another. He Apparated next to another one, grabbed his wand hand before delivering a mighty elbow strike to the face. "You don't even lay a finger on her!"

The male prisoner smiled and bit his captor, whilst throwing him over and reaching for something on the floor. It turned out to be a pistol; he took aim at one of the soldier's head.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm a Muggle!" he said.

Gallardo grinned. The dark haired girl managed to slip from her captor's clutches and take hold of something else on the moist ground.

" _Protego!"_ she and Marcena cried, shielding them from the recovering soldiers.

"I'm Jason Webb, by the way," said the guy.

"Gallardo. My name's Gallardo."

Marcena looked towards the blonde girl on the floor. She gently reached for the protruding pike and looked into her tearful eyes. "Honey, I need you to be brave for me, can you do that?"

The dark haired girl held her hand and touched heads with her friend. "It's OK, Nicola, hold on!"

"My name is Marcena, and I'm going to help you." With one swift motion she pulled out the pike; Nicola let out a cry as it came out with her blood on it.

Gallardo took off his trench coat and placed it around her.

"Hestia, we need to get out of here!" suggested Jason. He could see the red soldiers wiping off the mud and blood from their clothes. Ten men stood ready to blast down the shield charm at any minute. For a moment, Gallardo, Jason and Marcena faced them all through the shield. They knew that once it was down they would be no match.

The soldiers held back their fire, even as the fire of the seven devoured and consumed the fallen tree with all its hate, the soldiers remained static. They had completely blank faces, they were the masters of death poker. What were they waiting for?

"Bow down!" ordered a booming voice. Sure enough, Diablus dragged his body onto the scene, his armour was battered and broken. Yet his wrath was as fierce as ever. "Bow down... before Diablus!"

All ten put their wands away and turned in unison towards Diablus and dropped to their knees, before prostrating themselves to their master, leaning on their arms in case they needed to leap back up. Diablus towered over the companions and glared in an almost suppressed violent rage at them. His eyes pinned each of them. He stood right opposite Marcena, who despite her courage and defiance, appeared to be shaking from her hand.

Gallardo quickly grabbed it and moved in between her and Diablus, who cracked a mischievous smile for a split second. He pointed a bloodied finger at him.

"Who are you?" he thundered. "Who sent you?"

"What do you mean 'who sent me'?" Gallardo asked intriguingly.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" snarled Diablus, clutching his fingers and wincing, holding something back. He began to pant heavily. "Was it one of Norrington's descendants?"

Gallardo tightened his grip on Marcena's hand.

Diablus started a twisted smile. "Well, you should know that I'm within the first twenty-four hours of my incarnation. Meaning that I have enough power to do... this!"

Flames engulfed him, the power and energy from the blaze caused his soldiers to rise and step away and for the earth to be scorched. Gallardo's watch started vibrating, he yanked it out to see a translucent shield like bubble expanding and contracting from it.

Diablus' flames charged at their shield charm; the shield ruptured like a glass dome ceiling caving in.

"Behind me!" Gallardo commanded. He raised his watch up, it's shield deflected the flames, but a heavy load reigned down on him. The scorching heat drew out most of his sweat beads, as his normally upright fringe began to stick to his forehead. The flames distorted his vision as the trees ahead of him rippled fiercely.

His body began to starve itself of water, oceans of sweat charged out of him, causing him to almost let his wand slip. A cloud of lethargy came at him, numbing his senses of touch. His vision began to fade to darkness; he jolted himself back awake. The adrenaline began pulling at his legs, but he defiantly jogged on his toes.

He felt someone grab him from behind and then _crack!_ A gush of wind pulled out from him before coming back to him. He was at a completely new place, but the same fatigue engulfed him as his body was completely dehydrated and felt so scorched. He looked to his arm; he was horrified to see second degree burns and that's when the burning pain shot through his entire body as he cried out. Still the drowsiness and heat beat him down and immobilised him.

_He was on the one train that he would never forget, laughing and joking with Harry, Ron and Hermione... He was playing football with Glenn, who threw back the ball only for Mary to shoot it into the back of the net... He helped a girl carry her suit case to her Common Room; the way she kindly smiled at him was something he would never forget..._

"Gallardo!" cried Marcena, holding his hand. "Hang on in there... please!" The fatigue was kind enough to let him make out her face. Jason, Nicola and Hestia were stood a few paces back.

"Marcena..." he managed to blurt out, striving to keep her face in his eye and mind. "I want you... to know... I may not... get... another... chance... I..."

"No, no, don't you dare talk like that!" Marcena began to weep.

He used his last bit of energy to feel the side of her cheek and wipe away a tear; he smiled and let out a sigh before passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that chapter; I definitely enjoyed writing it! Try not to draw any premature conclusions though.
> 
> I made a reference to two sci-fi franchise, can you guess which ones? One of them is obvious if you know what I'm into.
> 
> Would you have intervened or not? Why?


	7. Commune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was 8000 words, but I decided to move the other 3000 into the next chapter. Still, I hope you enjoy!

_26_ _th_ _June 1995_

The shadow of slumber eased off Gallardo, as his eyes adjusted to see the sunlight putting him under the spotlight. His room was illuminated, and looked like something resembling the old hospital wing, with multiple clean beds for the patients. Some of these had green curtains draped over them. There was an aura of safety and serenity. He could not see what was outside, but the light was enough to make him feel as if he had just woken up from a long dream, even though the stiff bandages on his arm and left torso spoke otherwise. He was dressed in a light grey long hospital gown. Any minute he expected Madame Pomfrey to come in and tell him to get some rest.

He stirred and yawned, bearing in mind that this was a new day. Towards his right lay Nicola, the blonde girl; she lay really still and asleep.

"Hey, you're awake?" he heard Marcena call, from his left. He turned to see her sat on a chair, her weary eyes shone up as she too was stirring. Gallardo smiled and sat up, before feeling some inches of pain in his side.

"No, no, no," said Marcena. "Please, take it easy. Oh, God!" she began. She placed a hand on his, which he held back. "I'm so glad you're OK!"

"Where are we?" he whispered, as his muscles began to adjust.

"You're in Garden Town, young man," said a middle-aged woman, who had greying hair tied back. She was slim but not skinny and wore a matron's robes. "I am Dana Mare-Enfield," she smiled warmly and touched his forehead, her hand felt cool and comforting.

A lump caught in Gallardo's throat- he was forced to swallow it and exhale.

"Still quite heated up," she commented. "Marcena tells me that you're always quite warm blooded and get a temperature easily, is that so?"

Gallardo nodded.

"You had some burns on you and some scars, they could have developed into something really really serious, you know?

"But Marcena, here, used your Meden Ring to do most of the healing. Amazing girl she is, you know?"

"Yes,"Gallardo grinned. "I do."

"Well I'd like to keep you in for a few hours more, maybe a day and then we'll let you out, we hope you can stay with us in the compound."

"Compound?" Gallardo asked.

"Yes, we call it Garden Town, but it's more of a hamlet or compound." She paused and rose. "Stay with us a while, my husband and so many others are grateful for what you did."

Gallardo smiled shyly and nodded. As Dana left, he turned to look at Marcena, who was looking exasperated. "Hey, it's going to be OK," he soothed her.

"Yeah," she muttered through a croaky voice. He reached over and stroked her cheek and wiped a tear that was about to escape from her eye.

"Hey, mate!" called Jason, entering the ward. He was followed by Hestia, who carried a bouquet of roses.

"Hey, Marcena," Hestia said, embracing Marcena, who returned it. "How're you doing, babe?"

Marcena nodded.

"So, he's awake then?" Jason asked.

Gallardo chuckled. "Yes, I suppose so!"

"You were brilliant out there," Jason said.

"It was nothing," Gallardo replied.

"No, really we cannot thank you enough," whispered Hestia. "If it wasn't for you, then my best friend..." she signalled to a sleeping Nicola. "Would be..."

"How is she?" Marcena yawned.

"She's still in shock," Jason said grimly. "But she'll be fine. Seriously, mate, I owe you. She's my sister, you know? You saved us all from a really horrible death."

Gallardo shivered at the hero worship, he blinked and sat up slightly. "I wasn't the only one. So, what were you doing there?"

Hestia and Jason turned to each other.

"We were..." Hestia began. "We knew that Voldemort would raise Diablus there, so we arrived to try and prevent it, but then..."

"You threw the balloon volley?" Marcena asked.

Hestia nodded.

"And those in soldiers, they were Diablus' henchmen?" Gallardo asked.

"Yes, they were," Jason answered. "But what were you doing there?"

"Oh we're from the fu-" Marcena began.

 _[Marcena no!]_ Gallardo communicated, even though it gave him a stitch. "We were doing exactly the same as you- trying to stop Diablus."

Hestia nodded, she strode over to where Nicola was still sleeping and placed the red roses by the bedside table. "Thank you," she whispered.

The two walked out later, leaving Gallardo and Marcena in the hospital.

"Gallardo?" Marcena said bashfully.

"Yes, Marcena?"

She reached into her pocket and took out the burnt up and charred remains of the fob watch. Gallardo' stomach sank like a man falling from a cliff, but he just sighed and tried not to show it.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Gallardo shook his head and sighed once more. "Well, it's OK. Don't beat yourself up about it."

She nodded. "I'm going for a walk, I'll see you later on today." She rose and strolled out of the room. "You get some rest, yeah?" she whispered, cracking a slight smile.

Gallardo spent the rest of the day relaxing and doing a little bit of light exercising, he had sandwiches for lunch, with his co-patient, Nicola Webb. She yawned and smiled at him, she found it difficult to walk, or even sit up at first- the soldiers had left a mental wound on her as well.

"So, where are you from?" she asked.

"I'm from Bath," replied Gallardo. "Ethically, I'm half-Spanish, my mum's from Cordoba. But we live in Bath."

"You got family there?" asked Nicola. "In Bath?"

"Yeah, my mum, my dad," Gallardo sighed. "My younger sister and brother. You?"

"My parents died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Nicola grinned. "It's not your fault. Besides, I have Jason and the Garden Town community are like family. So you're a Wizard?"

Gallardo hesitated.

"It's OK, we have Wizards and Muggles living here, it's no big deal," Nicola laughed; she winced. "So, have you been to Cordoba? Is it nice?"

"I have, it's fantastic. Have you been?"

"No, but I'd like to one day," she grinned. She rose and tried to reach for a jug of water on the table opposite her.

"Let me," Gallardo said as he got up. He strode over to the jug and poured some water in a glass, walked to her bed and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she said, quite sweetly. "You're such a gent." She gave him a look, longing yet slightly painful. His stomach lurched a bit and he looked away.

"It's no big deal," he said quietly. He was flattered, but began wondering whether he had overstepped the mark.

Nicola blushed slightly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Fire away," Gallardo welcomed warmly.

"Are you and that girl, Marcena...?"

Gallardo nodded. He smiled and looked in front of him. "Yeah we are, she is really... special, if you know what I mean?" He felt himself swallowing and sighing nervously. He laughed, in quite a silly way, he thought. "I'd gladly give my life for her," he muttered, looking at his bandages.

"That's really sweet," Nicola said.

"Are you OK?" Gallardo asked her. "I mean since..."

"I'll be fine," she said. "I should be walking in no time soon!"

"You go girl!" Gallardo raised a hand for a high five. She blushed once more and returned it, prompting laughter from both.

Just then Marcena entered and saw them.

"Hey, you all right?" Gallardo chirped.

"What're you doing, you should be resting!" she said sternly. "Come on, back into bed!" she put a hand on his shoulder. Gallardo turned to Nicola and made an amused face. Nicola shrugged.

Marcena was taking his temperature from the forehead.

Gallardo touched her hand and pulled it to his mouth. He lowered his voice and spoke quietly.

"Hey," he said. "What was that about, muffin?"

"What was what?" she asked.

"Come off it, please. Look Marcena, you know you mean a lot to me, right?"

Marcena looked at him and flushed. "I know, I know," she said shyly.

"You've got nothing to worry about, all right?" he consoled.

Marcena nodded and then gave him a peck on the cheek. "Check with Dana, but I think you're ready to go. Plus, the rest of Garden Town wants to meet you!"

After Gallardo got dressed into his spare clothes, he found himself shaking hands with Marco Enfield, a fifty to sixty year old wizard, who started Garden Town with Dana. Gallardo also met his son, Ben Enfield and Ben's wife Nora (who was actually a Muggle). Ben and Nora had a nephew and niece- Darius and Enya, who were about six and seven years old respectively. He was hailed like a hero by Hestia's twenty-something brother Adam.

"Thank you so much, mate!" Adam had said to him the third time after dinner.

"All right, Adam," Dana reigned him. "I think we should call it a day. I'll show you two to your room. The couple rose and were led to to fairly spacious room, with a double bed, a desk, a small fire place, a few chairs and a wooden floor.

"I hope that's enough for you," Dana said.

"It's great, ma'am," Gallardo replied. There was a flower, a lilly in a cup of water. Gallardo picked it up and held it the light before smelling it. He handed it to Marcena, before looking out of the window to see a fabulous blue night descending over a hill top. "Perfect view inside and out, not bad at all!"

"Oh you remind me of Marco when we first got married!" Dana said. "I hope you have a very happy life ahead of you! But don't forget, you'll never have it easy!"

"Oh," Gallardo laughed nervously. "We're-"

Marcena nudged him. "Thank you so much, Dana."

As she left them, Gallardo looked at Marcena and raised an eyebrow.

"I told her that you were my husband," Marcena confessed.

"What?" Gallardo chuckled. "Why?"

"I don't know it just came out, you were badly injured and I didn't want you taken away from me, since it was all my fault!"

"What?" he said, sitting on the bed, cushioning his legs and taking his shoes off.

"Don't make me repeat it, I know it was a big thing to say."

"No, no, no, I mean yes it was a big thing to say, since we've only been officially seeing each other for just over a month. But I mean, what's your fault?"

"I've got us trapped here, haven't I?" she too, sat cross legged on the bed, with her hair tied back and her silver night gown draping over her legs. "Are you really not bothered?"

"Well, not that much."

"But you are a little bit?"

"Look," he took hold of her hands. "I am so glad that you challenged me and got me to help those people. You helped me keep my humanity!" He reached to stroke her hair. She smiled and held his hand tighter.

"Beside," he continued, grinning like a twelve year old. "I'm so glad that, of all people, I'm stuck in the past with you. That gives us three years; we could do all sorts of things!"

"What things?" Marcena intrigued.

"We could fall deeply in love," Gallardo cooed. "And when we're both ready, even get married and then pick up the war from where we left of!"

Marcena giggled, nervously. "What?"

"That wasn't a proposal," Gallardo said quickly. "That definitely wasn't a proposal."

Marcena look turned from nervous shock to slight disappointment. "Oh."

"No, because... I would want it to be more... romantic than this," he clarified, with knots in his stomach.

"That's good enough for me," she grinned. He edged forwards and felt her mouth with his, and held it there for few seconds.

"Why didn't you want me to tell them where we're from?" Marcena asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

Gallardo thought for a moment. "I suppose, this whole Muggle and Wizards living side-by-side concept is nice, but we need to make sure that we can truly trust them before telling them we're from the future."

He then pulled back and rose. He strode over to where his bag was, he pulled out a grey sleeveless crew neck vest, turning away he slipped off his shirt and put the vest on. He sighed as he noticed a scar on his left pectoral, which ran down to his flank. There was still a fading residue of the burn he had suffered.

"I'll take the couch," Gallardo said, quietly and attempted to lay on it, but both his head and feet exceeded the ends. He laughed quietly, as he attempted to adjust himself, but he was too big for the couch.

"Come up here," Marcena suggested. "We'll just put a pillow in the middle."

"You sure?" Gallardo replied, after a pause.

She nodded. "I also want you to be comfortable."

"Thanks.

"I thought the Meden Ring was supposed to heal all my scars quickly?" he asked.

"Dana says that some scars take more than magic or medicine to heal," Marcena replied quietly. "Because they are sometimes a sign of mental, emotional or spiritual scars.

"It's OK, I am OK with you having a few scars!" she laughed reassuringly. "I've got a few myself, from when I was doing Potterwatch."

Gallardo had started to smile, but that turned to concern. "Really? Are you OK? Can I see?"

"No!" Marcena replied, indignantly.

"Why not?"

"Because!" she snapped. "I'm..."

He pulled himself next to her and took hold of her hand. "It doesn't matter to me either."

Marcena had a look of fear and shyness in her eyes. "I know... but still..."

"OK, how about you point out where?"

Slowly and reluctantly she raised her night dress to expose her belly, on the left side there was a deep red bruise-like scar, as if someone had rammed a hot iron into her. The scar had indented itself into her snow-like skin, but underneath, the earth was rising as a tender breath showed that she was full of life.

"You're beautiful, you know?" Gallardo whispered. He pressed his forehead against her, she raised a trembling hand to his head. As she gently stroked his hair, he caressed over her scar with his fingers. "Can I show you?"

Marcena nodded, holding her breath.

Gallardo then touched her flanks with the surface of his lips, and held it there. He journeyed to her arm, then to her shoulder. Embracing her, he pecked up to her cheek, then her ear. He nibbled it causing her to giggle.

Suddenly, she said. "Gallardo, look..."

Gallardo parted slightly but lay right next to her, inches away from her face. He reached a hand and stroked her chin, but waited patiently for her to speak. "What's up?"

"I don't mean to come across as a tease, but... I want it to be really special... for when we do," Marcena explained nervously, what Gallardo had done drove her wild, but her heart was racing too much and she was scared.

Gallardo suddenly realised what she was talking about and flushed slightly. "Oh, well, so do I!" he laughed.

"No, I want it to be _really really_ special," Marcena whispered.

Gallardo took hold of her left hand with his own. "You want to put the more important things first- the love, compassion, trust, respect and complete understanding, right?"

Marcena nodded, slightly surprised. "How do you know?"

"Because," replied Gallardo putting her hand to his beating heart. "I want the same."

"Thank you, for being so understanding," she murmured.

"In the mean time," Gallardo started to whisper. "We can cuddle and adore each other." His embracing caused them both to giggle. A dome like canopy opened above them, as the young couple held one another. Gallardo found his heart racing a marathon as he stroked her hair; suddenly he grinned mischievously.

"Are you ticklish?" he muttered in her ear. She immediately snapped her eyes open.

"No! Gallardo, no! Don't you dare!" she half-laughed and half-shouted. She began convulsing with laughter as he tickled her side and belly. She struggled but it was no use; he was strong enough to hold her down and make her beg for mercy through her laughter.

"Ssshhhhh!" he hissed, affectionately. "Marcena, you'll wake up the kids! Take way their innocence, man! They're not old enough to have that talk! What're they going to think _? Aunty, Uncle, why was Marcena screaming?"_

"Shut up!" she exhaled, after he'd eased off.

* * *

_31st July 1995_

_Garden Town is a truly unique commune. The people are what you may call Unitarians, who believe that Muggles and wizards can live side by side knowing about each other, without any jealousy or resentment. They call themselves Guardians of the Torch. For almost a thousand years, their role has been to secretly assist the Muggle and wizard worlds in times of despair and need. Marco says that Admiral Jacob Norrington founded them to deal with a common enemy of Gryffindor, Marteslon, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and even Slytherin, who began to see the evil of this enemy._

_The whole commune is a big square; the southern side has a shop which holds the most amazing and colourful plants. The shop leads to the actual square, which has a large, green and truly living space. The shrubs and trees salute those who enter and you feel like saluting back, as the sun or moonlight rains down over the open top. When it rains, a canopy is domed over to shield us from the rain. There are a few rooms for each of the residents on the outside of the square, with one for a kitchen, and one hospital._

_By tradition the Unitarians, and their guests, sit in the spiral of benches and talk, just talk- however much or little they want to. We laugh, joke and have a truly good time after a day of hard work. I try and be tight with everyone, especially the guys; Adam, Jason and Marco are truly amazing, their sense of brotherhood and teamwork with doing everything reminds me of the few people that have helped me feel at home._

_My father said: "Hard work makes a man honest", he was right on that one. I never knew that horticulture- the weeding, the pruning of plants and flowers, the sowing, the nurturing of nature and beautifying of plants could be so enjoyable and challenging._

_I have come dangerously close to learning how to cook properly, thanks to Marcena and Dana, I'm really going to have to make them something now. Marcena's really fantastic with the kids, they know how to knit now and constantly make us woollen hats and wrist bands. They seem so happy when they're spending time with her, I'm told that I'm good with them too, but she's truly amazing. After teaching them some badminton or football, I can't help but think that they seem so innocent and at ease, they don't have to worry about the next few years, yet._

_The hard work you do, especially when you feel your hands working and aching with the scent of wood makes, it makes you feel so proud. You might ask why I would dedicate so much energy and time doing hard work, without magic. Simple- spirit._

_Training with the others means I have been able to move a step closer to mastery of Fursan, and mastery of my inner soul. I have managed to drift off to sleep fairly easily, rather than having to stay up and stare at the ceiling for ages, even though an angel lies next to me._

"Are you seriously reading that?" Gallardo asked, bemusedly.

Marcena jumped slightly and quickly closed the book. "Oh, I was just..."

"It's OK," Gallardo nodded. "You're one of the people I've allowed to read my ink!"

She awed and tilted her head to one side. "Thank you, I'm flattered. So... I think it's quite cute that a guy is keeping a diary and talks about his 'angel'!"

"It's a journal!" Gallardo corrected. "And it's not that _kind_ of journal."

Marcena gave him a grinning look.

"We're going to be here for three to four years, so I might as well take notes!" he said indignantly.

"I just said I think it's cute, and very New Man!" Marcena teased. "Tough and big on the outside, but very soft and sensitive at the core!" she said, deepening her voice, prompting a begging look from Gallardo.

"M-marcena?" called a stuttering voice from outside their ajar door. The two glanced to see a strawberry blonde, and a fellow Hufflepuff standing.

"Hey Hannah!" called Marcena and threw her arms around her. "What are you doing here?"

"Well... I come here... every year..."

"You're lucky," Gallardo remarked. "This place is beautiful."

"Is it just you then?" Marcena asked.

"No, Neville Longbottom, comes here every here too. I don't know if you know him, he's the smart guy from Gryffindor." Hannah replied.

"Yeah, of course I know him, he's actually good friend of mine!" Gallardo laughed. "I didn't know he came here though."

He caught a glimpse of Neville helping Adam lay a bag of compost. The keen herbologist looked up to see him waving. Neville smiled coyly, before walking almost shyly towards them.

The three left the room and met him warmly. Gallardo pound hugged him before saying: "Hey, man how are you?"

"Hello, Neville," Marcena hugged him. Hannah just smiled.

"What are you doing here?" Neville asked, after a while, as they walked to the central pond area.

"We... are... on a placement!" Marcena said, somewhat untruthfully. "Surprise!"

"You never told me you came here," Gallardo said. "Every year?"

"You never asked," Neville grinned.

"Actually, Neville and Hannah," Gallardo cleared his throat. "We're from the future."

"What?" Marcena, Neville and Hannah said simultaneously, as they sat down by the edge of a pond.

"It's OK," Gallardo reassured Marcena. He turned to the other two. "We're from the future, we came to do a mission, which we did, but we got stuck."

"How?" Hannah asked.

"The device we used got burnt beyond repair," Marcena said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Hannah muttered.

Gallardo laughed and raised his hand. "It's OK, you're not the one who burnt it and burnt me in the process!"

The four chuckled. There was a long pause.

"Well... aren't you going to ask?" Gallardo teased. "Don't you want to know what the future's like?"

"Gallardo... he's back!" Neville hissed. "You-Know-Who, and this time he's got an... an ally, is that true?"

Gallardo nodded, "It is."

"So, what happens?" Neville prompted, as Hannah turned even more pale than she was.

"Well, I said you could ask, doesn't mean I'll tell you!"

Marcena gave him him a playful slap. "Don't be mean to them!"

"You're both alive, and well," Gallardo nodded. "You've both got really important roles ahead of you. Are you two... you know?"

"Oh, no!" they said together.

"We're friends!" Neville added.

"OK," Gallardo said coyly. "That's fine. No seriously, the next few years will be tough, but," he paused. "It'll be fine."

Hannah nodded. "What about everything else? What about our friends and family?"

Neither of them replied.

"Well?"

"I don't know, I honestly don't know," Gallardo replied.

"Look, it's like a tree," Neville said suddenly. "A bonsai one, no matter how you cut it and curse it, it grows back. Because it's tougher, more committed and stronger than before."

Gallardo and Marcena began smiling. "Yes, it is..." Marcena nodded in agreement.

Even Hannah cracked a shy smile. "So, are you taking part in the barn dance tonight?"

"What?" Gallardo said.

"The barn dance," Neville answered. "Don't you know? Garden Town does a barn dance festival around this time every year!"

* * *

The night fell like a stage curtain and Gallardo's stomach felt knotted. The enchanted dome's stars glided in a sweet melody, as Marco whistled on his panpipes, creating the sound of a phoenix singing its heart out for others.

He and Marcena had to borrow some nice old clothes from the others. Gallardo wore a red checked shirt with black trousers, and Marcena wore a green long robe with embossed flowers. He joined his right hand with hers as they circled to the panpipes. He kept telling himself to not fall over.

"You're sweating," she whispered through a smile. He quickly wiped his hands on his handkerchief. She chuckled. "So, how come we're telling Neville and Hannah?"

"Because they'll keep it a secret. I asked them, or will, to look after Mary and Glenn," Gallardo replied. "I met up with them in the Leaky Cauldron, just before I left."

"Really? But this is before the DA days and before they turned... you know... who they are today." She twirled to the tune with his help.

"Maybe," he said through a hum. "But it's like the bonsai that Neville described. Maybe we can help them in turning into who they're meant to be."

"You think we can?" Marcena asked, as they changed direction.

"I know you can; you can definitely empower them," Gallardo complimented. "You did with me- you still do, every moment!"

Marcena grinned and blushed. "Thanks."

The song ended and Marco said: "Swap!" Gallardo paired up with Hestia, while Neville and Marcena were doing the next dance.

"Hello Hestia!" Gallardo called.

"Hey, how are you?" Hestia said. "Marcena tells me you can dance pretty well."

Gallardo chuckled. "I think she's being bit erm... diplomatic."

The courtyard was filled with laughter, jokes and cheers at the end of each song. Marcena excused herself to go chat with Hannah and Nicola. Gallardo resumed with Dana this time, before wearing himself out.

After a while they all sat in the square by the benches and gathered for some food.

A man in a long black coat and bowler hat had appeared next to Adam and whispered something to him, who nodded and muttered something back and motioned to where Marco was sat. Gallardo approached him intriguingly, and nodded.

"Hello, there, sir," he greeted and held out his hand, as he saw that the man was grey, about in his fifties, and he looked as though he had just come out of living in solitude. There were small scars and a few wrinkles on his face, with some residue of a beard. The old man shook it and looked at him with a sad smile, he lowered his bowler hat and walked away.

"Who was that?" Marcena asked, behind him.

"I don't really know," Gallardo grinned sheepishly.

"Can I just have you attention?" Marco called. "Gather around the benches, it's nothing to worry too much about."

Any chattering seized as everyone complied.

"Nothing to worry too much about," Marco announced. "But there has been of an accident on the Greater Western Bridge. It appears that the bridge patrol were assassinated and the bridge plunged into the river."

"Isn't that bridge supposed to be heavily guarded?" Neville asked.

"It was a joint Death Eater and Baronze job," Adam replied. "Or at least we think it was."

"Baronze?" Marcena said.

"The men in red," Gallardo said grimly. "Who are they, really?"

"No one really knows," Marco shrugged, as the camp fire danced and murmured. "We can only guess. They are said to be men who have accepted that their sole purpose is to serve Lord Diablus. They are said to be broken emotionally and mentally, that they forget who they were, that's why there's only ever ten of them."

Gallardo shivered slightly and rubbed his hand over Marcena's shoulder, sensing some of her shivering, he held her closer to him with one arm. "So, why has Voldemort trusted Diablus to be his ally?" he enquired.

"He doesn't," Marco shook his head. "Trust him, in reality, I mean. And with good reason- if left to grow long enough he can grow even stronger than Voldemort, and that would be very dangerous for the world. Voldemort only agreed to the Blood Pact because Diablus is very skilled in some ancient magic. The Blood Pact actually means a lack of trust; if one is harmed then the other feels the pain too, so directly harming each other is not really an option.

"While Voldemort, from what I remember was very good at inflicting physical pain and harm, unlike Diablus, he has not truly mastered the mental ways of torture yet, at least not in the way Diablus has."

"Like using someone's fear and insecurities to drive them insane?" Gallardo said.

"Exactly," Marco croaked. "We must make sure that their fear-mongering doesn't get the better of our people.

"I've heard that Dumbledore is facing a bit of trouble getting the Ministry to accept that Voldemort has returned. I hope they accept it. For all our sakes."

"Some of us should go and check out the bridge," Neville suggested. "See if there's any signs that can take us back to the Baronze and who they really are."

"I'm happy to come," Gallardo volunteered.

"There won't be, they never leave anything to link the murder back to them," Ben shook his head grimly. "And don't worry, Adam and I are going there to keep watch, and make sure they don't cause trouble anywhere near."

"If they don't leave any clues, then how do we know they exist?" Marcena questioned.

"Well, you've seen them," Marco said, cracking a smile. "And historical records show the early days of the Baronze Order, who were trained to be cold assassins to serve Diablus with every inch of their soul."

"I hope I haven't put you all in a morbid mood, but I think it's best if we all get some sleep now!" he sighed. As the crowd dispersed, Marcena went up to him.

"Who was the man in the bowler hat?" she asked. Gallardo also made his way to them.

"His name is Pablo," Marco replied hesitantly, as if pondering whether to tell her. "Pablo Sempatho."

"What?" she asked as the pin dropped in the long uncomfortable silence, which was only broken by the crackling fire. "Why would you keep something like that from me?" she exclaimed angrily. "You know who that is, right? How long have you known him?"

"Marcena, it's OK let's calm down?" Gallardo tried to reassure her.

"No! Why didn't he tell me?"

"Well, you two haven't been entirely honest with us, have you?" Marco said simply. "I mean, when Marcena specifically asked that watch to be kept, Dana and I realised what it was. We even tried repairing it."

The couple froze and their hearts thudded. "We're on the same side, Marco," Gallardo implored, but Marco didn't seem stern.

"It's OK, we understand why you did. Plus we like the hard work you've both put in with my grand kids, the orchard, the shop and everything."

"Thank you, sir," Gallardo said with a bit of scepticism.

"Try to get some rest," Marco reminded. The couple turned to retire to their room.

"Marcena?" Marco called out. They turned to look back at him. "I know you're angry, you have a right to be, but there is more to him than you think."

* * *

Marcena lay on the bed, curled up and with her back to Gallardo, who got dressed into his vest. The silence roared like a ghost, as his heart and mind raced about how to approach.

He slowly and gently propped himself next to her, he ran his hand on her shoulder, which she did not throw off or react to. He sighed and stroked her hair, before edging his lips to her ear.

"You OK?" he whispered as gently as he could.

She shook her head. "I was four," she said. "He just vanished, one day. I once thought that he was an imaginary friend... how pathetic is that?"

"No it's not," Gallardo consoled. "Did your mum ever talk about him?"

"Not when we were kids," Marcena started to cry; Gallardo held her tighter.

"But I soon realised the truth, I love Leono, and I don't want to be ungrateful but...I can't help thinking: what happened?"

"Hey, listen to me," Gallardo reached over to wipe a tear. "Look at me." She turned over briskly and Gallardo held her to his beating heart. "It'll be OK, I'm sure there was a very good explanation."

"I guess so," Marcena sniffed. "I just can't take being lied to. I hate it when people just up and leave, without warning, or without even saying goodbye!"

"Well, I'm here for you," Gallardo comforted. "There is no place I'd rather be than with you, no matter what."

Marcena nodded and stroked his cheek with her hand. "What did I do to deserve a man like you in my life?"

"You were just Marcena- sweet, compassionate, courageous, beautiful and simply amazing," Gallardo whispered tenderly. "When you're ready, you'll meet him properly, and you'll be able to forgive and move on. But in the mean time, promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't give up on happiness and all good things!" he echoed.

Marcena cracked a hopeful laugh and nodded. "OK."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that's what I call give and take! Unfortunately, we won't be seeing Pablo Sempatho for a while, but we will, one day. Anyone want to offer a guess as to why he left?


	8. Eagle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, Pablo Sempatho was Marcena's biological father, who left when she was really young, for reasons that I'll make clear in Book 4. Leono Marks is one of the teachers at Hogwarts, he is Marcena's step-father and like a father figure to Gallardo, who feels closer to him than his own father.
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter, bringing in another familiar face!
> 
> Translation is at the end.

to form on Marcena's eyes as she put her fork down to her plate of sweet and spicy potato.

Gallardo took hold of her hand and gave her the 'be strong' look. "Listen to me, she's lucky to have a sister like you, all right? I think with the right amount of support and encouragement, you can help her to overcome her addiction."

Marcena smiled weakly. "Yeah... it did give us the chance to get her away from Hogwarts, they even officially checked me in as well, just so that I could go work for Potterwatch without raising suspicion.

"How're things with your dad?"

Gallardo chuckled nervously but then his grin faded. "I haven't had the chance to talk to him, to be honest, I've not thought about it that much." His voice began to crack. "It's still hard to not feel bitter about it, but when the time is right we'll talk properly, until then I'm going to appreciate what I have." He stroked her hand once more.

"Let's make a pinky, then," Marcena suggested, holding out her finger. "I'll agree to help out my big sis and you start sorting things out with your dad, at a comfortable pace, how's that?"

Gallardo hesitated before taking hold of her little finger. "Deal!"

Both started chuckling, before returning to their meal. Marcena's smile faded slightly.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Four years from now, what are you going to do with Griphook? Are you leaving?" The whole place seemed silent all of a sudden. The chatter and cooking lost their voices as Gallardo's throat got stuck.

"Please don't ruin a good day by bringing Griphook into it," he beseeched. To his horror, tears began to form in her eyes.

"Don't do that Gallardo!" she cried. "I can take it if I'm not the most important person in the world, but I can't take being lied to!"

Gallardo's stomach dropped; he inhaled. "Listen, you are the most important person to me! OK? I mean it when I said that I'd rather be with you! No matter what happens in four years, I want you to remember that, you hear me?"

Marcena nodded weakly; Gallardo tenderly placed a finger on one of her tears.

"Besides, let's not worry about the future by forgetting about the here and now. Let's take things one step at a time, eh?"

She cracked a weak smile.

"Excuse me?" Javier came and knocked on the side of the booth. Gallardo drew the curtain back a little and offered a smile. "Hello, Javier."

"Your name's Gallardo, no?"

"It is."

"And you, señorita, you're Marcena?"

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Miss Meeri wants to talk to you, she says it's very important and you would love to see her."

The couple stared at each other and then at Javier. Marcena's sadness temporarily left the air, with an almost amused curiosity.

Across the diner, stood a black haired girl, in a green top; she waved at them. Gallardo swallowed and beamed. She had some bruises and a scar on the side of her head but she was unmistakeably who Gallardo knew she was.

"Hello, Mary," he threw his arms around her and held her tight. The image of a burning village and a broken scaffolding brought a flush of shame and bitter sweetness that he had to inhale hard. "It's good to see you!" he said quietly.

"It's good to see you too," Mary nodded and hugged him once more. With one arm around her, he beckoned her to Marcena, who had a sad smile on her face.

"Mary, Marcena," Gallardo introduced. "Marcena, this is my sister Mary." He turned and looked at them both. "Be nice to each other, please!"

The two girls looked at each other and started giggling.

"Hi Marcena, nice to meet you."

"Hey Mary, it's not like we know each other!" The two hugged and laughed uncontrollably.

"Hang on, does he talk really fast when he's nervous?" Mary asked.

"Yeah, he does!" Marcena replied. "What about when he gets really passionate and excited about something?" The girls burst into laughter.

Gallardo rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'd rather you were fighting," he muttered.

They sat opposite Gallardo; both looked almost like distant sisters, or two good friends as Gallardo preferred to think of them. Mary was slightly more tanned than Marcena, who was more brown than black haired.

"So how did you know we'd be here?" Gallardo asked, after they had ordered something to drink.

"You told me," Mary replied, whipping out the unmistakable silver fob watch.

"No way!" Marcena said in disbelief. "H-how...?"

Mary didn't answer the question directly. "Oh by the way, Mama sends her love-"

"How is she?" Gallardo asked, flushing slightly.

"She's fine, and so does Glenn and everyone else!"

Gallardo had a burning question, a question that filled him with dread, but he resisted. "So, how far down are you?"

Mary grinned, trying to tease him. "How far down are you two? I mean as..."

Gallardo glanced at Marcena. "Well... we've been seeing each other for..."

"About five months, no?" Marcena helped out, with a smile.

"Wow, that long?" Gallardo said, surprised. "We're taking it slow."

"That's good, that's really cute!" Mary cooed. "Seriously, Gallardo, you hold on to this girl, OK?"

"I will."

"You treat her right," Mary said.

Gallardo chuckled coyly, as Marcena giggled. "I will," Gallardo assured.

"You better!" Mary demanded lightly. "By the way, I've got something for you two." She pulled out a bottle, with a glowing white gas inside. "A memory for you. You've still got the Nuri Lamp on you, right?"

Gallardo nodded. "Hang on, how do you know about-?"

"Future; keep up, brother!" she said impatiently.

Gallardo shook his head.

"Where would you be without me?" she asked, pulling out the ornamental Nuri Lamp. "I've got a memory that you should see." She pulled out a sealed bottle, with a cloudy white gas, as Gallardo looked inquisitively at the wonders of the Lamp.

"Who's is it?" Marcena asked.

"Harry's."

"What?" Gallardo's eyes filled with anguish. "Well, why hasn't he come himself? What's happened to him?"

"Gallardo, please, we need to focus. Harry will be fine." Mary poured the memory into the Lamp after closing the curtains to give them some privacy. She motioned for them to enter. Marcena launched herself in, followed by Mary and then Gallardo. A surge in their stomachs brought them right into a place they recognised, with it's expensive paintings, carpets and architecture- Malfoy Manor.

It only took the sight of Voldemort pacing the room, for them to realise that this was one of Harry's vision; he was supposed to be stopping them and clearing his mind, but it must have been important.

Diablus was sat in an armchair, filing his nails, as he sat behind a desk, facing the door, as he was sat sideways. Voldemort's restless pacing and anguish caused him to knock over a few things, but he paid no attention; it was as if he was turning more red by the second.

"Diary... gone! Ring... gone! Locket... gone! Cup... gone!" Voldemort was shouting. "I thought the Lestrange vault was the safest place ever! Could they know about the others?" he asked with almost fear.

"You kept your secret for a very long time," Diablus said. "You should be proud!"

"What is this?" Voldemort snapped. "I've had it with you and your childish games!"

"Think, Master Voldemort," Diablus said, calmly. "Is there no solution you can see?"

Voldemort paused, but was still visibly raged. "What?"

"You see," Diablus narrated, rising. "You should assume that Potter has destroyed each Horcrux that he finds. Every time he does, he usurps some of that power for himself. So while you grow... shall we say 'less powerful' he grows more powerful."

Voldemort sat down on a stool and began to fidget with the unmistakable Elder wand. "So what's the answer?"

Diablus hesitated. "There is one, but you may not like it."

Voldemort's face gave way to the mental torture he was suffering. "I still want to hear it!"

"Very well, it will require you to put some trust in me."

"I hate the sound of that," Voldemort muttered.

"It's this something called a Nexus Prism," Diablus explained. "Instead of losing power after a Horcrux dies, whatever power you lose gets redistributed between us."

Voldemort was silent for a moment. "Why should I trust you? You won't even let Bellatrix Lestrange into your group of Baronze!"

"Because when one becomes a Baronze he will forget who he is," replied Diablus. "Besides, we have the Blood Pact don't we?"

Voldemort still looked cynically at him. "And what is to become of you and I when both Potter and Eagle are dead? Are we to be foes?"

"Master Voldemort, I may be in a different era or even galaxy by then!"

Voldemort was clearly still mistrustful. "You have never really been open with me, what exactly are you doing here apart from wanting Eagle dead?"

"I have told you," Diablus replied, with a slight loss of candour. "Hunting for an old heir loom of mine.

"Master, you are under no obligation whatsoever," he reminded his pale and fuming friend. "We can let Potter get stronger, if that's your wish."

"Fine!" roared Voldemort. "I'll do it!"

"Good," Diablus said, almost hungrily. "Certainly, the wise choice." There was a knock on the door, Diablus permitted entry as a red robed man, a Baronze, with a red beard entered and bowed deeply.

"My Lord Diablus!" he saluted.

Diablus picked up a bundled parchment, which Gallardo caught a glimpse of a picture, but it moved too fast for him to see whose it was.

"Leave us, Hedron!" Diablus ordered. Hedron immediately took the bundle and bowed out.

"We must strike our enemy where he is most weak!" Diablus lectured. "We then watch him tear himself, and his allies, down! We will discover his weakness and burn it! The sentimental are so easy, if you know how!" Gallardo shuddered as he stood next to Mary and Marcena, he reached a hand each on both their shoulders.

Voldemort cleared his throat. Diablus motioned for him to give his hand; he held the wrist in one hand and waved his wand in another.

"Relax, trust and completely let go," whispered Diablus, before muttering an incantation.

Voldemort closed his eyes and started looking nauseated, something that Mary and Gallardo found really hilarious, as they burst out laughing and had to clutch each other.

Marcena glared at them before she realised that they could not be heard, so her fear and tension was replaced by laughter.

Meanwhile, Voldemort looked constipated and even more nervous, as he winced behind his closed eyes. Then the laughter died out, as he seemed almost in agony with the life being slowly drained from him, causing a spell of sinister pity. Diablus finally completed his spell before declaring: "It is done."

Voldemort immediately withdrew his hands. "What now?"

"It's all done," Diablus replied with a touch of pride. "Any power you lose will be distributed between us."

Voldemort stared at his hands before retaining his cynicism. "Distributed by how much?"

"My Lord Voldemort, I'm sure you do know that magic is not an exact science," he said, as the revulsion in Voldemort's face showed. "Therefore, I cannot give you quantum."

"Let's go," Mary beckoned them. Gallardo and Marcena followed her back, as they jumped back into reality with a whooshing sound. Their booth still had the curtain drawn, so probably nobody had peaked in.

"Well that's what I wanted to show you," Mary clapped her hands.

"The shifty bugger!" Gallardo said. "He's been planning this for a long time!"

"Which is why he silenced Maximus!" Marcena interjected. "He couldn't directly harm him so he's been whipping up some tension amongst the rank and file!

"But would he not weaken himself if Voldemort gets hurt? I mean, their souls are still bound, aren't they?"

"Yes, but..." Gallardo whispered quickly. "But power lost is redistributed between them. And if I was a gambling man, which I'm not, I would bet that Diablus gets most of the power whereas Voldemort gets next to nothing! But-but-but, if Diablus was exposed before Voldemort then that would nullify the Prism, wouldn't it? How far off am I, Mary?"

"This is exactly what I meant!" Mary giggled to Marcena, before Gallardo gave her a look. "Spot on!"

Their sacred booth left them feeling an aura of joy, excitement and suspense at their discovery. For minutes this was enough to keep their minds occupied, before Gallardo offered to pay the bill.

As he left the booth, the girls stood up too, into the casually busy diner. Mary tapped Marcena on the shoulder and beckoned her to talk. There was a touch of sadness in Mary's eyes which made Marcena look at her with concern.

"Be kind to him," she said quietly. "Be really good to him and make him feel safe and appreciated."

"Of course," Marcena replied, as Mary sniffed.

"He is a truly decent guy, he will gladly spend the rest of his life loving you, protecting you and wanting to do whatever it takes to make you happy. He'll try and be strong for you, he may not show it... but he may feel so... fragile and broken inside," Mary said, starting to cry, which contagiously spread to Marcena. "He's tried to hide it many times from me, but I know because he's my brother and I love him to bits." Marcena reached to stroke her hand.

"So please, be kind to him," Mary managed to continue. "Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, of course I will, honey!" Marcena cried as the two girls embraced.

"Thank you, so much," Mary croaked. "I wish you two all the happiness! I'd love to have you as my sister-in-law!"

"Me too," Marcena said, blushing as Gallardo returned. He saw them both looking teary and a worried look shot across his face.

"Hey, is everything all right?" he said. "Have I missed something?"

"Female bonding," croaked Mary, who then hugged him. "Listen, I'm going to go now, you take care."

"Of course," Gallardo coughed. "Have a safe journey back, okay?" he said as he rubbed her back. Slowly, he let go and nodded sadly to her, as she left the shop. They waved at her away a sailing ship floating into the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Estamos bien, gracias; tenemos una mesa por dos. We're good, thanks. We have a table for two.


	9. Memorium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You have overcome so many challenges, but there are still some for you to face. When you make a selfless sacrifice, when you are strong here," he said pointing to his own arms. "And here," he signalled to his heart and mind. "Then you will be ready for your final showdown with the tyrant, who wills to destroy everything you love!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now Gallardo and Marcena decide to travel to Hogwarts, to ask Dumbledore to repair the watch with the Elder Wand, but they meet a ghost along the way.

"Thanks for getting along with Mary," Gallardo said, when they were back in their room. The cool breeze of the night whistled in the distance. "Shall we close the window?"

Marcena nodded. "It's all right, I like her. I suppose we were friendly before, as well," she said quietly.

"What's the matter?" Gallardo said softly, as he touched her chin and sat down on the bed. "You seem really quiet, all of a sudden."

Marcena chuckled. "Just thinking about something that your sister said." She was about to open her mouth to ask him something that was on her mind, or at least tell him, but she hesitated as to how she should.

"We need to get the watch fixed," Gallardo declared, taking advantage of the pause. "And we need to find more information about the history of Diablus. Sooner rather than later," he muttered, before adding. "Though there's no rush to get back!"

"We'll go back whenever it's meant to be," Marcena said philosophically. "But it's going to take the most powerful of magic to... un-melt the watch, you know?"

"I think I know just the tool, and the man," he grinned. "Dumbledore with the Elder Wand!"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," he said. "While we're at it, we can also learn about our enemy's history and how best to overcome him!" He started grinning like a meek twelve year old again. "Marcena Sempatho, will you take a trip down memory lane with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask!"

* * *

_17_ _th_ _September 1995_

The next day, they headed out, with a touch of disguise. Gallardo wore dark blue jeans, a blue and white shirt and black square framed glasses. Marcena wore a purple caftan, a grey hooded coat and dark leggings. Their destination was no other than Hogwarts. They arrived through Hogsmeade Village before ascending to the stone steps.

The grand castle and rich green cheered their return, as the warm air of nostalgia moved them to silent awe of their surroundings. For the first time, Gallardo realised how harmoniously the birds of Hogwarts sang, as they were beautifully orchestrated by the call of the phoenix.

Gallardo turned to see his girlfriend starting to cry silently, she smiled through the tears; he started to swallow and put his arm around her, embracing her close to him.

"S-sorry..." she whispered.

"Don't apologise," Gallardo said in a low voice. "I don't mind you crying to me, it's kind of cute. Not that I enjoy seeing you cry!" he blurted quickly.

Marcena giggled and wiped her eyes. "Thank you."

The grounds had many students in their uniform robes, scattered around, they were having a bite to eat, laughing together and relaxing. It seemed hard to believe that Umbridge's frosty aura would attack the school, followed by the deep void of loosing Dumbledore.

"I can't believe how young we were!" Marcena said suddenly. They arrived in the Clock Tower Courtyard, the vines and moss was nearly overgrown, the benches were polished and brand new.

"Look at this!" Gallardo beamed, dashing into the middle of the Courtyard. "Do you remember what happened here?"

Marcena nodded.

_A first year girl was struggling with a heavy and packed suitcase. She laboriously dragged it across the courtyard, scraping the tiles as she went. A tanned boy walked up to her and offered a hand._

" _Can I help with that?" he asked courteously. The girl looked up from the suitcase to him. She gave the warmest and most enchanting smile ever._

" _Thank you," she replied genuinely. "Are you sure, though? My sister duped me into getting off the train early! So I arrived late and they made me go straight to Sorting without my things, which have just arrived this morning! Sorry, I'm babbling..."_

" _Positive," the boy replied, taking the handle of the suitcase and puffing his strength and energy into lifting the baggage. "Where to?" he smiled back, mesmerised by her, though he could not exactly say why._

" _The kitchens, please," she answered, brushing back her long brunette hair._

"That was the start of a really beautiful friendship!" Marcena awed.

"It was more than that," Gallardo said.

"Gallardo?"

"Yes, Marcena?"

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"No," he answered simply.

Marcena's smile faded.

"I believe in lust or attraction at first sight. But I believe that love is something... something that grows."

Marcena nodded, seeming satisfied. Gallardo felt a tingling sensation where his diaphragm was. He turned to a pathway leading to the infamous Covered Bridge, which lay cosily in the lush green trees over a cool blue stream.

He stretched out his hand; she took it and they dashed onto the bridge, with their footsteps causing a hollow echo. Both burst out laughing.

"Do you remember this place?" Gallardo asked.

"How can I forget ?" Marcena answered in a high voice, causing an onlooking group of girls to roll their eyes. "This is where I got recruited for the DA."

"It's where we all pigged out on the cakes you used to make!" Gallardo said, teasingly nudging her. "We had quite few tender moments here, didn't we?" he stroked her chin and then her shoulder.

Marcena nodded. "This is where you stood up for me," she whispered.

Gallardo cleared his throat and looked over the edge of the bridge to the serene blue horizon. "It's where I realised that you were worth protecting and putting your neck on the line for, no matter what." He held her hand and kissed it. Marcena sighed and lent against his shoulder.

"One thing we didn't do here," he coughed. "And I think we should."

She raised her head, smiling mischievously. "And what's that?" But Gallardo had a hunch that she knew. His mouth slowly yet passionately embraced hers, followed by his arms and then his body. They snuggled together never wanting to let go. Gallardo would never have let go if he wasn't worried about suffocating her.

"And that's where you made your choice," she said finally, motioning to the stone circle of eight in the distance.

Gallardo winced. "That's where I got beaten up senseless by Diablus!" he blurted out, chuckling.

"No!" she playfully struck him. "It's where you showed the most courage, where you refused to compromise your integrity and... oh..." she cleared her throat. "That's when I knew what a true man was... and I was... I was so proud!"

Gallardo held her close to him again and breathed in the life of her aloe vera and jasmine scented hair.

Marcena turned to face him and cleared her throat. Gallardo looked at her with an anticipating smile.

"Gallardo, I need to ask you... well tell you something, and feel free to go and think about this some more," she murmured. "If you... I'm not saying you should... but if you were really really upset and you... I don't know, were to cry or breakdown in front of me..."

Gallardo raised an eyebrow but kept listening.

"I want you to know that it would be okay. I wouldn't think of you as less manly, I'd always appreciate you and try to be understanding," she promised. "Look I know it sounds a tad bit wrong, but I want you to know that all your worries and happiness are my own." She placed a hand on his chest and stroked it, causing his heart to drain his throat.

"Thank you," he croaked, almost silently. "But I'm afraid I won't be crying for the time being!"

"OK," she grinned. "Just putting it out there."

As they walked on further into the garden outside the Herbology houses, the sun struggled to see beyond the clouds trying to blindfold her. A stone fish fountain rhythmically expelled some sparkling and cloudy water into its basin.

"Man, we've changed so much since our first year!" Gallardo remarked. "I mean can you believe that I used to just about reach your _shoulder_?

"Now I'm about five foot eight! You're what? Five foot two?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "You think people can change?"

"If they want to, I suppose," he replied, thoughtfully. He then put his arms on her shoulder and moved to her lower back, to which she placed hers on his neck with their lips a few inches apart.

"I know that you, my sweetheart, have grown into a more beautiful, sweet, intelligent, and way more feisty girl than you were!" he grinned, pecking her and making her giggle.

"And you, my man," Marcena began. "Have become a smart, gorgeous, loving and charmingly strong young man!"

They mooched for some more time as the Clock Tower struck three in the afternoon; they crossed a school of light crickets darting around the patio.

"Just out of interest," Marcena asked. "How come you didn't proposition to me all those times ago, I know you felt something then, I could tell!"

"I suppose, I was scared at first, and I didn't think I was ready," he answered.

"Well, I'm glad we took our time and blossomed into this!" she chuckled dreamily.

A sweet smelling lilac flower that rested in a nearby pond sang like bird. A wave of joy and anticipation filled Gallardo's insides. He had been meaning to say something, something important. But he needed to be sure; was he sure now?

"Marcena, there's something I need to tell you, and if I don't then..." he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, after placing the flower in her hair just above the ear. "In our real time, the last three years were really difficult for me. After being betrayed by Thoburn, being made to feel like a mug with Cynthia Sampson... I told myself that maybe... I wasn't meant to fall in love, that love really was only for the lucky ... and the strong," he croaked. Marcena looked at him sadly but said nothing.

"Then I was getting grief and trouble from all angles, I think I gave up on legal practice, and who wouldn't in the really corrupt climate, where integrity and justice meant nothing. So, I joined my friends and dedicated myself to finding the Horcruxes and destroying them. And, oh, I was good; I'd always find new leads, train really hard and defeat many Death Eaters while protecting my friends! I felt so... honoured. We'd laugh and some of the best of times!"

They had arrived back into the shade of the Covered Bridge, Gallardo looked out of the edge as a light breeze roamed past.

"But then they'd go to sleep," he murmured. "I'd be on sentry duty, that's when I'd feel it. A cloud of loneliness and longing." Gallardo began to frown and clench his fists. "I'd feel so empty and bitter, but I just didn't know why! I saw things that... I wouldn't want anyone to see...I had no idea at how much it was actually chipping away at me... part of me just didn't want to feel any more, it was just really hard to go on."

He cleared his throat, as Marcena touched his hand and it felt somewhat reinvigorating.

"But when I saw you again, when you smiled and looked at me with those lovely eyes, when I held your hand in mine," Gallardo said delightfully. "I felt really strong, I felt like I could hope... Marcena... I knew... and I've been sure so many times since then..." he beamed, holding both her hands and kissing them.

"What did you know?" Marcena whispered back, though she probably knew.

"Mr Eagle, sir?" called a voice before Gallardo could answer. A man in a dark blue navy trench coat nodded and saluted him. He took off a black shipman hat.

"That's me," replied the Spaniard.

"Apologies for disturbing you, my lady," he smiled at Marcena. "May I borrow him for a while, please?"

Marcena nodded but Gallardo stayed where he was. "Sorry, sir, have we met before?" he said politely.

"No, but we will," the man grinned. "I am the Commander, I would shake your hand but I can't." Both looked at him confused.

"I am a ghost," he explained. "I normally don't draw attention to myself, but meeting you is an absolute honour! May we walk?"

Gallardo nodded and asked Marcena to give them a second.

The Commander was just under six foot tall, he had neck length dark hair and a small beard. He looked in his forties. Death had not taken away the dark patches from his eyes, nor the cuts on his face and the weariness of his skin, but beyond that the youthful vigour of his smile and eyes remained. Suddenly, Gallardo realised where he had seen him before, or where he will. The Commander seemed to realise the familiarity too, as they stopped just outside the boat house and watched three vessels race each other in the blue rippling water.

"You're Norrington aren't you?"

"It's good to finally meet you!" Norrington said. "I trust you understand your destiny for the world?"

"I only know what little I know," Gallardo replied.

"Mr Eagle," the Commander began.

"Gallardo, my name's Gallardo."

"Gallardo, you will be one of the key Guardians! You will be a symbol of hope, justice and determination!

"You have overcome so many challenges, but there are still some for you to face. When you make a selfless sacrifice, when you are strong here," he said pointing to his own arms. "And here," he signalled to his heart and mind. "Then you will be ready for your final showdown with the tyrant, who wills to destroy everything you love!"

"That's when I get to wield the final artefact," Galllardo grinned. "That's when the meta wave will be complete?"

_"Your enemies fear the future because of the past!"_ Norrington recited.

"What is this past that Diablus is running from?" Gallardo asked.

"Gallardo, Diablus is on the run for many things. He is terrified of you; he is terrified of many things that remind him that he is not invincible!"

Gallardo nodded slowly in deep understanding. "Thank you, Commander, this has been... an eye opener."

"My pleasure," saluted Norrington. "I think we will meet once again, then you will be ready." He started walking away, but turned back to him and hesitated. "The girl... she means a lot to you?"

Gallardo nodded sceptically.

"I failed to balance, and my friends ended up paying," he said sadly, before smiling once more and nodding. He hovered away on the surface of the water.

Gallardo, pondering what he had heard, he strode back to find Marcena waiting for him by the Third Floor outer-entrance. But they were joined by no other than Gary Thoburn, who had stopped to chat.

Gallardo's muscles tensed as he moved in and pecked Marcena on the forehead, as she hugged him back.

"Hey, how was your talk?" she asked cheerfully.

"It was really informative," he replied, still looking at Thoburn.

"Are you two...?" Thoburn began. Gallardo nodded.

"I was always rooting for you two, mate!" he slapped Gallardo's back, who returned it at once. "Anyway, catch you two later!" he scuttled off down the to the lake.

Gallardo saw through the apparent friendliness; all those angry memories came flooding back with a twist. He edged slightly towards Thoburn's direction and paced back and forth.

"He knew!" Gallardo interjected. "He knew but he still went for you! That lying, two faced, back stabber!"

"Please!" Marcena cried, holding him. "I'm sorry-"

"No, it's not your fault, babe."

"Don't let him have a hold over you, you've done so well without him, you've had much better friends since!" she beseeched.

Gallardo exhaled and remained still.

"Please, I don't want you to hold on to that now," Marcena placed her hand on his chest, immediately causing his heart to charge like a steed.

"Yeah," he said finally, swallowing. "You're right, we've both done brilliantly."

"So what did the Commander want to talk to you about?" Marcena asked, smiling again.

"Well," paused Gallardo, edging towards the castle, which stood grandly and defiantly despite the pressure that Umbridge was weighing upon him. "He basically told me about how to be ready to wield the fourth artefact."

They pushed open the doors of the castle and an air of polish, but mainly familiarity greeted them, asking to be inhaled. A lump was formed in both of their throats, as all of the portraits seemingly nodded and curtsied to them, as they set their heels upon the stairs. Gallardo grinned and held out a hand to help her on the steps, which she graciously accepted.

"So this fourth artefact is..." she made a swishing gesture.

Gallardo nodded.

"Oh," she said. "I thought maybe you could conquer him with ... I don't know, in a little more... compassionate way."

"By love?" Gallardo asked, sceptically. "I'd rather not give him a kiss, if that's OK!" Both burst out laughing. "Are you sure you want us to do this now?" he asked, once they had recovered.

She nodded and placed her hand in his. "It's time, and we should do this together."

The couple emerged onto the corridor leading to Dumbledore's office, they proceeded towards the large stone gargoyle, which jealously sentried the office.

Both walked up to it and hesitated.

"What do you think the password is?" Gallardo said.

"Um... Lemon drop?" guessed Marcena. Strangely enough the gargoyle accepted and strafed aside, letting them pass up the stairs. They ascended upon the wooden door and knocked.

"Come in!" a voice called from within.

They slowly edged the door open, almost fearful at what they might find- an old man, who had been killed off by a backstabbing coward, what should they expect or ask him? Gallardo had not planned his request word for word.

Dumbledore looked upon them and smiled, through a weary and tired expression, as if he was pleased to see them. "Mr Eagle, Miss Sempatho, shouldn't you two be in uniform?"

"It's good to see you... " Marcena began slowly, but she couldn't say "alive" could she?

"We're from the future, sir," Gallardo informed. "And we can do with your help getting back, because we're stranded."

"Yes, the best way to get to the future is to act and dress like it, after all the world is but a stage!" Dumbledore chuckled softly.

Marcena looked at Gallardo, who cleared his throat.

"Sir, we're on the mission you sent us on: to destroy the Horcuxes, to find the Hallows and to investigate Diablus," Gallardo explained. "Could we please use your Elder wand to repair our fob watch and return?"

Dumbledore sat upright, his smile and laughter suddenly subsided. "And what would you be doing with a fob watch?" he asked sceptically.

"I helped Harry duel Voldemort and Diablus, who burnt the watch, meaning that we're stranded." He took out the rough and tarred fob watch and waved it around, hoping to be more persuasive.

Dumbledore furrowed his eyebrows and motioned his hand out. Gallardo handed the watch over and Dumbledore examined it.

"Do you know who this watch belonged to?" The couple shook their heads.

"Mellon Marteslon was the owner," the Headmaster said.

"Of course," Gallardo smiled. "Did he own a Meden Ring?"

Dumbledore smiled once again. "He did use one, but it actually belonged to a Nuria Meden, a very, very good friend of his. The ring, is an enchanted jade stone filled with frozen phoenix tears. I fear, we've lost the traditional view of hailing medics and teachers as heroes, whereas some people see the hero as he who can physically fight. But Nuria Meden was a real hero, who saved his life, more than once!"

Gallardo's eyes met with Marcena and he grinned.

"This wand also belonged to him," he held up his silver maple wand. "It kind of did something amazing... a blue-green-yellow-white light just cut into and beat Diablus to the ground!"

Dumbledore beckoned them to sit and offered them a drink. Both graciously accepted.

"Ah yes, Mr Ollivander is the expert in that field, but it seems as if this wand hasn't been handled for hundreds of years. It could be that it recognised you as its new master. Why it did that? I am not entirely sure.

"Despite his exterior, Diablus has a weakness. It is said that: he who rules with fear," continued Dumbledore.

"Lives and dies in fear!" Marcena chimed.

"Spot on, Miss Sempatho!" Dumbledore said. "I would award ten points to Hufflepuff, but I am infering that _you_ _two_ aren't students at the school in your time?"

Marcena began to hesitate, but Gallardo spoke up first. "No, sir, Hogwarts is not the safest place to be in our time." Dumbledore seemed surprised.

"But all the pieces are in motion and your plan seems to be working well so far, as far as I know," he added quickly.

Dumbledore nodded and picked up the fob watch. "Well I better fix this for you, unless you two want to switch places! I've got too many Ministry Decrees to deal with, and I often have to listen to Dolores Umbridge's annoying and pompous nonsense as to how this school should be run!"

They all laughed. "No sir, we'll take being attacked and cursed or burnt by Diablus over that!" Gallardo remarked.

"I do hope that you're OK, is that how the watch was burnt?"

"Yes, luckily this one," he tilted his head towards Marcena. "Was there to heal me physically and mentally."

"Good, good," Dumbledore raised his wand to the watch. " _Reparo_!" A flash if light cleansed the darkened and charred watch, and a newly polished and revived watch lay in his hand, ticking once more.

"There you are!" he declared, handing the watch back. "Is there anything else you require?"

Marcena hesitated, but Gallardo spoke up.

"Are we meant to have the Elder Wand?" he enquired. "Because, Voldemort actually has it, in our time. Is that supposed to give him a false sense of security?"

"What?" Marcena cried. "You didn't tell me that he had the wand!"

Dumbledore, on the other hand, just looked pensive. "Mr Eagle," he said finally. "Holding the wand does not make anyone the master."

"In any case, the wand cannot make anyone invincible," a new voice contributed. They turned to find Professor Marks descending down the stairs and carrying some books, looking as cheerful as ever.

"Dad!" Marcena threw her arms around him, which he bemusedly returned.

"OK, it must have been a while!" Marks laughed.

Gallardo nodded and rose. "Professor Marks, sir."

"How are you two? You're from the future but got stranded, right?"

"Yes, sir," Gallardo replied. "It's good to see you, and thank you- for having faith in me when I had none in myself."

Marks smiled confusedly. "OK... no problem, Gallardo. Always a pleasure!"

"Thank you, sir." He received a nod back from Dumbledore. He walked over to the door and held it open for Marcena, who walked through. He turned to leave but Dumbledore called out to him.

"Remember who you are," he said. "Remember your destiny, your intentions and, most of all, your soul. Remember that Diablus is a far more brutal and cunning foe than Voldemort! There will be a time where he will grow more powerful each day."

"Of course, sir," Gallardo answered with a shudder. His expression turned more coy; he asked Marcena to meet him by the Owlery, while he had a private word with Professor Marks. The professor and the Spaniard walked out of Dumbledore's office and into the corridors.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Gallardo took a deep breath, his heart was racing madly- he had never done this before, but if this went well then he would take this as a sign.

"As you know, sir, we're both from 1999," Gallardo explained. "I don't know when we'll meet you again. Just in case the time is right before then," a smile flickered onto his face. "There's a question I was hoping to ask you about Marcena and I."

* * *

"Can you ask them?" whispered Darius to Enya, as they stood by the courtyard pond.

"No, I always do the asking, it's your turn!" Enya snapped, standing stiffly.

Gallardo and Marcena sat by the benches, just admiring the scenery probably for the last night.

"Ask us what, hun?" Marcena asked, sitting more attentively.

"Are you..." Darius began.

"Are you leaving?" Enya squeaked.

The couple looked at each other, and their stomachs turned. A sense of queasy guilt spread across their faces, scolding their selective discretion. They had told everyone but those two.

"Yes..." Marcena began. "I'm afraid we are. But not until tomorrow! So you've got us for a day!" She attempted some light heartedness.

Darius began to cry, Enya relented a bit longer but she started becoming teary too.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Come here!" yelped Marcena holding out her arms, they didn't waste a single moment rushing her. She looked to an almost bemused Gallardo, pleading his help.

"Look guys," he cleared his throat. He rose, patted Darius on the back and stroked Enya's hair before kneeling. "We're really sorry, but we do have to go. But can you do something for us?"

The children nodded, wiping their eyes.

"Keep playing badminton and football, keep being yourself and look after each other," Gallardo said earnestly. "I hope that we can see each other again soon." The two threw their arms around him with surprising strength, he half expected Marcena to teasingly gloat at him, but she just smiled sadly with moist eyes.

Hestia and Nicola came over to them, both feeling apprehensive.

"Everything all right?" Gallardo enquired lightly.

"You two should be ashamed of yourselves!" Nicola scolded. "Breaking the hearts of the little children!"

"I'm-" Gallardo began, but Hestia silenced him.

"I'll miss you both!" she began to cry, hugging them both. "Especially you, my dear!"

"I'll miss you two, as well!" Marcena cooed, returning the embrace.

Meanwhile, Nicola threw her arms around Gallardo and pecked his cheek. "You take care, now, and you make sure Marcena knows how lucky she is!

"Hold on to this one!" she said to the brunette, who cracked a weak smile.

"T-thanks," stammered Gallardo, hugging back. "I hope your soul mate realises how lucky he is," he said quietly, with more composure. "I hope he makes you happy."

Nicola nodded sadly and smiled, before thanking him.

* * *

"You still think it's the right time to go?" Gallardo asked, as he lay in the bed with his pyjamas, for the last time in Garden Town.

Marcena affirmed. "It's time, we've got what we needed, right? There's a war to be had, the sooner we get this over the better. Unless, you're having doubts?"

"No, I think it's about time, we have a lot to take back." Gallardo adjusted himself on the bed and sighed deeply.

"It's OK," Marcena lay next to him and touched his cheek with her nose, before embracing him. "You have a responsibility and I'll be patient and supportive." She snuggled and pecked his cheek, and he held her to him.

His heart started beating red blooded energy around his body and he swallowed, but smiled and stroked her back and shoulders, over her night dress, and kissed her cheek chastely but with teasing passion. She shivered and caressed his face with her cool cheek.

Gallardo noticed that her heart began sprinting like a cheetah. "What's the matter?"

"Can we wait some more?" she whispered in his ear. "You've been so patient, but let's make it more special for both of us? Please?"

Gallardo chuckled and gently brought her head to his chest, which rose up and down like a tide. He kissed her hair lovingly. He wanted her, he could not deny that, but he was happy to just hold her for the time being and respect her. "There's no rush, whatsoever," he said honestly and stroked her once more, after successfully lassoing the fire in his blood. He felt truly blessed.

* * *

_18_ _th_ _September 1995_

The outside of Garden Town seemed like white walls had started to wear, all that could be seen was the green house shop. The colourful flowers began to wilt at half length, as the couple, armed with their possessions in an enchanted pouch, strode towards the horizon, through the first few fallen leaves.

"You OK?" Gallardo said, holding his sweetheart's hand. He wore a green polo shirt and blue jeans, while she wore a purple coat and green tunic over her jogging bottoms. Marcena nodded, despite a touch of sorrow.

The people, who both considered family, had been understanding, had not asked too much about why they had not been completely honest. Or what the future was like. They all kept an air of coolness, despite being on the verge of tears. The men had been brothers to Gallardo, yet behind the testosterone and macho, he could sense a tender tear. Marco's words resonated in their ears.

_"Good luck to both of you. Call us,"_ he had said. " _If you ever need our assistance, call us. We will gladly come running!"_

"Let's do this," whispered Gallardo pulling out the fob watch. Marcena nodded and held a shaking hand to his arm, which he gripped firmly.

"18th April 1999, Shell Cottage!" he commanded. The watch began vibrating and flashing rapidly. The two were warping through the sea at a very fast pace, both landed with a thud on the wet grass on a cliff, the sea roared them a welcome and the seagulls cried and dispersed. They were home.

* * *


End file.
